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 El Salvador and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 The Selecter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Soul II Soul,
Darondo,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
Audionom,
Scientists,
Fear,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dave Gahan,
B.T. Express,
Warren Ellis,
Cameo,
Avey Tare,
Wire,
Rites of Spring,
Blake Baxter,
AZ,
Black Moon,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
the Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
Lindisfarne,
The Wake,
Brothers Johnson,
Stetsasonic,
Roxette,
Derrick Morgan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monochrome Set,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scion,
Severed Heads,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacob Miller,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ponytail,
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
Lou Christie,
Neil Young,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.