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 Vietnam and from New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 EPMD to the dance 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Dennis Brown,
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Desert Stars,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
Tropical Tobacco,
Youth Brigade,
Delon & Dalcan,
Davy DMX,
Patti Smith,
The Count Five,
The Trojans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reuben Wilson,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
Eric Copeland,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
the Germs,
Q65,
the Human League,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker,
Nas,
Barrington Levy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
The Smiths,
Little Man,
Robert Görl,
The Dead C,
Skarface,
Joe Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
World's Most,
Animal Collective,
Mars,
PIL,
AZ,
The Gap Band,
Eric Dolphy,
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.