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 Georgia and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tommy Roe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cameo,
Monolake,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
Deepchord,
Marine Girls,
the Normal,
Oneida,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Barry Ungar,
Patti Smith,
Yellowson,
The Evens,
The Electric Prunes,
the Germs,
Interpol,
Mad Mike,
The Names,
CMW,
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
X-Ray Spex,
Tim Buckley,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
Accadde A,
Ultra Naté,
kango's stein massive,
Au Pairs,
The Sonics,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
Babytalk,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zapp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Laurel Aitken,
Eve St. Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Raincoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gichy Dan,
Kas Product,
Sarah Menescal,
Sam Rivers,
Absolute Body Control,
Moby Grape,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Symarip,
James White and The Blacks,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.