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 Hungary and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Animal Collective to the grunge 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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Barry Ungar,
Gichy Dan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Fear,
Excepter,
The Smoke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Pole,
The Index,
The Slackers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Negative Approach,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
K-Klass,
In Retrospect,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alphaville,
The Music Machine,
The Mummies,
Mantronix,
Massinfluence,
Oneida,
Rotary Connection,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
Gang Green,
New Order,
Rapeman,
Reagan Youth,
Fluxion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Make Up,
Pylon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos,
X-101,
Desert Stars,
Tommy Roe,
Monolake,
Erasure,
Metal Thangz,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Carl Craig,
Crash Course in Science,
Gong,
Sonic Youth,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.