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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 the Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Lyres,
This Heat,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Motorama,
Pulsallama,
Japan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
Robert Görl,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül,
the Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Deakin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Loose Ends,
Amazonics,
ABBA,
The Stooges,
Robert Wyatt,
Outsiders,
Junior Murvin,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
Basic Channel,
The Motions,
Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
The Walker Brothers,
Easy Going,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Erasure,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fuzztones,
Jeff Lynne,
The Moody Blues,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gladiators,
U.S. Maple,
Bluetip,
The Knickerbockers,
Wasted Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Ludus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.