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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Velvet Underground to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nils Olav,
Slave,
Amon Düül,
Audionom,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
K-Klass,
Harpers Bizarre,
Khruangbin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Velvet Underground,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
Tommy Roe,
The Smiths,
Scientists,
Ice-T,
Hashim,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unwound,
The Real Kids,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faust,
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Sonic Youth,
The Slits,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nico,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantytec,
Danielle Patucci,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Fear,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Style,
Circle Jerks,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Aswad,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.