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 Mauritius and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Standells to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
Con Funk Shun,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
The Names,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Clarke,
Trumans Water,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Lucky Dragons,
Gichy Dan,
Crash Course in Science,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Hill,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Delta 5,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jandek,
Japan,
Cluster,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Man Parrish,
John Cale,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Second Layer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
Colin Newman,
New Order,
Adolescents,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
T.S.O.L.,
Q and Not U,
PIL,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
Masters at Work,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.