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 Iran and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fania All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
Jeff Lynne,
Alphaville,
Nick Fraelich,
Gong,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
L. Decosne,
Howard Jones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Trumans Water,
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
the Human League,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Nico,
Jacques Brel,
Junior Murvin,
Lungfish,
Nirvana,
the Slits,
Soft Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Wolf Eyes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ponytail,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Urselle,
Delta 5,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Vogues,
Symarip,
Sugar Minott,
Ronan,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
Mandrill,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.