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 Romania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 The Standells to the dance 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Das Ding,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gories,
Avey Tare,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
F. McDonald,
Tim Buckley,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Outsiders,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Hashim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Evens,
Dead Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
James White and The Blacks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Style,
Thee Headcoats,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
Faust,
Tommy Roe,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Nik Kershaw,
The Count Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mars,
Toni Rubio,
Buzzcocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fugs,
Banda Bassotti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shoche,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.