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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Nirvana to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
Faust,
David McCallum,
New Order,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
The United States of America,
Fat Boys,
Marc Almond,
Andrew Hill,
Sam Rivers,
Toni Rubio,
Morten Harket,
The Birthday Party,
Godley & Creme,
Alison Limerick,
Skarface,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Mantronix,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
Crooked Eye,
Barrington Levy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Tremeloes,
Arcadia,
The Dead C,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quando Quango,
The Cowsills,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Hood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
The Busters,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.