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 Korea North and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Michael McDonald 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 Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Black Moon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Scrapy,
R.M.O.,
Intrusion,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
CMW,
Ossler,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
Oblivians,
Lightning Bolt,
The Offenders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fela Kuti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Davy DMX,
Drexciya,
Sällskapet,
Brand Nubian,
Albert Ayler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Order,
Hoover,
Altered Images,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
Metal Thangz,
Stereo Dub,
Pantytec,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
Model 500,
Joyce Sims,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
Can,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MC5,
Lalann,
Jawbox,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme,
Barry Ungar,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
Soulsonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.