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 Gabon and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Fugazi,
Ossler,
Boredoms,
Minny Pops,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
John Cale,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
Blake Baxter,
Minutemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Foxx,
the Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Panda Bear,
Eurythmics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Almond,
The Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Moss Icon,
cv313,
Intrusion,
Pantaleimon,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sound,
The American Breed,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Zapp,
Cecil Taylor,
Dennis Brown,
Joyce Sims,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sonics,
Y Pants,
Mark Hollis,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker,
Max Romeo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Goldenarms,
the Swans,
Shoche,
Graham Central Station,
The Smoke,
Matthew Halsall,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
David Axelrod,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.