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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the rap 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
The Knickerbockers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lower 48,
Vainqueur,
The Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
L. Decosne,
The Mojo Men,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eve St. Jones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-Ray Spex,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dark Day,
Pussy Galore,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Silicon Teens,
Yaz,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Raincoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Inner City,
Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Eden Ahbez,
Moss Icon,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Symarip,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter and Kerry,
Matthew Halsall,
Motorama,
Outsiders,
Magazine,
Can,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Matthew Bourne,
the Association,
the Germs,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
Tears for Fears,
Mission of Burma,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.