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 France and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Minutemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
Michelle Simonal,
Smog,
Sandy B,
Al Stewart,
The Birthday Party,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
Country Teasers,
Cybotron,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Rundgren,
Hasil Adkins,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Martian,
Arab on Radar,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
The Star Department,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sugar Minott,
Essential Logic,
the Germs,
Severed Heads,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Faust,
Maurizio,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Flag,
The Shadows of Knight,
Japan,
Hot Snakes,
Joe Smooth,
Arthur Verocai,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pretty Things,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
The Cure,
Von Mondo,
Eric Copeland,
The Moody Blues,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.