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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
Sex Pistols,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Youth Brigade,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
The Remains,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nik Kershaw,
Echospace,
The Raincoats,
Livin' Joy,
Camberwell Now,
B.T. Express,
The Techniques,
The Associates,
Derrick Morgan,
the Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Cecil Taylor,
Kas Product,
8 Eyed Spy,
Shuggie Otis,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
Boz Scaggs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Walker Brothers,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter,
Cameo,
Neu!,
Barrington Levy,
the Human League,
Animal Collective,
The American Breed,
Barbara Tucker,
the Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Davy DMX,
Make Up,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Negative Approach,
Dave Gahan,
Mission of Burma,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Flag,
Newcleus,
Toni Rubio,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.