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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Henry Cow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
OOIOO,
Tom Boy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Vogues,
Johnny Clarke,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
Rufus Thomas,
Hardrive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
These Immortal Souls,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
The Doors,
Essential Logic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
Q65,
Absolute Body Control,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
The Mojo Men,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Aswad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Josef K,
The Skatalites,
The Victims,
Black Sheep,
Ituana,
Quadrant,
La Düsseldorf,
Lyres,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers,
Skriet,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Maleditus Sound,
The Stooges,
Spoonie Gee,
Sarah Menescal,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Kinks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nik Kershaw,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.