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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the disco 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Fraelich,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
June Days,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
Chris Corsano,
Pantaleimon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Toni Rubio,
Von Mondo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Gastr Del Sol,
Archie Shepp,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
Davy DMX,
The Fall,
Lalo Schifrin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Alison Limerick,
Dead Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Make Up,
Ash Ra Tempel,
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
The Selecter,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Malaria!,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Scientists,
Camouflage,
The Invisible,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Neon Judgement,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Finger,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.