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 Bahamas and from Portland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Holger Czukay 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 Infiniti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
In Retrospect,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flash Fearless,
Fad Gadget,
The Move,
Dawn Penn,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick May,
Brick,
Sight & Sound,
Massinfluence,
The Smoke,
Theoretical Girls,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Darondo,
Lalann,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dead Boys,
D'Angelo,
Lucky Dragons,
Circle Jerks,
Scan 7,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed,
Grauzone,
Trumans Water,
Nas,
Icehouse,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
Newcleus,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Moebius,
The Slackers,
Todd Rundgren,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
The Monks,
Accadde A,
the Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.