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 Brunei and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Rekid to the electroclash 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Alison Limerick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Barracudas,
Tomorrow,
The Sound,
Patti Smith,
MC5,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skarface,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Loose Ends,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
the Normal,
Terry Callier,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy Collins,
The Victims,
Ken Boothe,
Roxy Music,
Spoonie Gee,
Pylon,
Bush Tetras,
The Offenders,
10cc,
Wasted Youth,
Motorama,
Eurythmics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ponytail,
Hoover,
Sam Rivers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Youth Brigade,
JFA,
Kevin Saunderson,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Golliwogs,
Procol Harum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
The Black Dice,
Lucky Dragons,
Agitation Free,
Graham Central Station,
Archie Shepp,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reagan Youth,
Icehouse,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.