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 Australia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
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 clarinet 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 Chrome to the disco 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Lungfish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Joe Smooth,
Little Man,
Ice-T,
Eric Dolphy,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Clarke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Martian,
Robert Wyatt,
Piero Umiliani,
The Music Machine,
Bauhaus,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
K-Klass,
Stereo Dub,
Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
The Five Americans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roger Hodgson,
The Tremeloes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Public Enemy,
Hardrive,
Black Flag,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jandek,
Sight & Sound,
Smog,
Hashim,
China Crisis,
Excepter,
Underground Resistance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
June of 44,
Lower 48,
Gong,
Supertramp,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television Personalities,
The Sisters of Mercy,
LL Cool J,
Con Funk Shun,
Harpers Bizarre,
The New Christs,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.