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 Mexico and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grunge 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brick,
Marc Almond,
Silicon Teens,
Nico,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Womack,
Patti Smith,
Section 25,
Rapeman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
Mission of Burma,
Ice-T,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
Negative Approach,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
Steve Hackett,
The Mummies,
Bad Manners,
Stiv Bators,
Television,
Wings,
Joy Division,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Q65,
PIL,
Excepter,
New York Dolls,
Robert Wyatt,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Graham Central Station,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.