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 Liechtenstein and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Busters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cowsills,
Hardrive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mad Mike,
Intrusion,
The Names,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nirvana,
The Fuzztones,
Boredoms,
The Leaves,
Cybotron,
The Angels of Light,
Zapp,
Joyce Sims,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amazonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
Yaz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alphaville,
Ituana,
Das Ding,
Pantytec,
Bush Tetras,
La Düsseldorf,
Mr. Review,
Khruangbin,
The Slits,
Zero Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Red Krayola,
Ornette Coleman,
Janne Schatter,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rekid,
Reagan Youth,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül II,
Carl Craig,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.