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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cluster to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scott Walker,
Moebius,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Five Americans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Freddie Wadling,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Blues Magoos,
Mad Mike,
Sandy B,
The Tremeloes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Birthday Party,
Curtis Mayfield,
Model 500,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson,
Black Flag,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
Television Personalities,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Royal Trux,
Pylon,
cv313,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
Lakeside,
The Searchers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crime,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glambeats Corp.,
Little Man,
Fear,
Radiohead,
Nirvana,
The Standells,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Remains,
Animal Collective,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Cybotron,
Gang Green,
Johnny Clarke,
Porter Ricks,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.