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 Ethiopia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 Tom Boy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Con Funk Shun,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Hardrive,
the Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Foxx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
The Pop Group,
Pharoah Sanders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Schoolly D,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
Black Sheep,
The Cowsills,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magazine,
F. McDonald,
Oneida,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Black Flag,
Leonard Cohen,
Theoretical Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q65,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Womack,
The Smiths,
Oblivians,
Sun Ra,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
Dark Day,
Negative Approach,
Silicon Teens,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.