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 Senegal and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Y Pants to the jazz 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Soft Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Al Stewart,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
Danielle Patucci,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
The Fall,
Television,
Neu!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ossler,
Groovy Waters,
Blake Baxter,
the Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
The Cramps,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Lynne,
New Order,
kango's stein massive,
Sex Pistols,
Wire,
the Germs,
The Mummies,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Eden Ahbez,
Cluster,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fluxion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nico,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Khruangbin,
Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zero Boys,
The Names,
Clear Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fatback Band,
Sonic Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.