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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Buckinghams to the electroclash 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
The Litter,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Moebius,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Ohio Players,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
Mad Mike,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tommy Roe,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Wyatt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Sheep,
ABC,
The Red Krayola,
The Mojo Men,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tubeway Army,
Vladislav Delay,
Second Layer,
Scientists,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Country Teasers,
Crooked Eye,
Gerry Rafferty,
UT,
Bang On A Can,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marmalade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultra Naté,
Lightning Bolt,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
Connie Case,
AZ,
Chris Corsano,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.