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 Monaco and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Absolute Body Control to the electroclash 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Bill Wells,
Buzzcocks,
The Blues Magoos,
Josef K,
Anakelly,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blossom Toes,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Marc Almond,
The Angels of Light,
Cymande,
Glenn Branca,
Parry Music,
Public Enemy,
Moby Grape,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
Pere Ubu,
Funkadelic,
Black Pus,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lightning Bolt,
Roxy Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
Livin' Joy,
Grey Daturas,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mojo Men,
The Misunderstood,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yazoo,
Peter & Gordon,
Agent Orange,
The Toasters,
Danielle Patucci,
Little Man,
Stetsasonic,
June Days,
Public Image Ltd.,
Faraquet,
Schoolly D,
Faust,
Ituana,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.