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 India and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Procol Harum to the electroclash 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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
Blake Baxter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camouflage,
Dave Gahan,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
The American Breed,
Mars,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Raincoats,
Deepchord,
Boredoms,
Bush Tetras,
Wings,
Quando Quango,
Shoche,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Severed Heads,
Peter and Kerry,
Marine Girls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
T. Rex,
Hardrive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed,
Junior Murvin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Q65,
Cal Tjader,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Sneak,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.