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 Albania and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Marcia Griffiths to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
The Toasters,
Bob Dylan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Lynne,
Ice-T,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New York Dolls,
Erasure,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marvin Gaye,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Niagra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Parry Music,
Gabor Szabo,
David Axelrod,
Von Mondo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rites of Spring,
Clear Light,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
Gichy Dan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Black Dice,
Q65,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Max Romeo,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tommy Roe,
Derrick May,
Nas,
Pantaleimon,
Pussy Galore,
Fela Kuti,
The Mojo Men,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Techniques,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Make Up,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.