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 Burundi and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tim Buckley to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Spandau Ballet,
The Toasters,
Hardrive,
Ponytail,
Masters at Work,
Metal Thangz,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Neu!,
Boz Scaggs,
Quantec,
Animal Collective,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
New York Dolls,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fuzztones,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
Make Up,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
Duran Duran,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Young Marble Giants,
Howard Jones,
Audionom,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Trumans Water,
The Barracudas,
The Motions,
La Düsseldorf,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Parry Music,
Khruangbin,
Gichy Dan,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonny Sharrock,
R.M.O.,
PIL,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arab on Radar,
Mantronix,
Graham Central Station,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronan,
The Busters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.