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 Algeria 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Moby Grape 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Infiniti,
OOIOO,
The Black Dice,
Icehouse,
The Vogues,
Kayak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sight & Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blues Magoos,
Sparks,
Essential Logic,
Mission of Burma,
Crash Course in Science,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smoke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Metal Thangz,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
Sarah Menescal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
The Pretty Things,
Danielle Patucci,
Pole,
The Searchers,
The Victims,
LL Cool J,
Neu!,
T. Rex,
The Knickerbockers,
The Toasters,
Trumans Water,
kango's stein massive,
Donny Hathaway,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeff Mills,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Lynne,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
Mr. Review,
Eden Ahbez,
the Normal,
The Kinks,
Franke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bronski Beat,
Derrick May,
Mad Mike,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.