Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Canada and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Names to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Dolphy,
Skriet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Colin Newman,
Ituana,
Max Romeo,
Sandy B,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
Ponytail,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
The Zeros,
Grauzone,
Harmonia,
Swans,
The Move,
Drive Like Jehu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mo-Dettes,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
T. Rex,
La Düsseldorf,
The Busters,
The Index,
Letta Mbulu,
World's Most,
Tim Buckley,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agitation Free,
Sonic Youth,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Joyce Sims,
Ronan,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
Derrick Morgan,
Amon Düül,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magazine,
The Tremeloes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fall,
Babytalk,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.