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 Algeria and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Fear to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boredoms,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
Bobby Sherman,
cv313,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
L. Decosne,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Todd Rundgren,
David Bowie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alton Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mandrill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
In Retrospect,
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moleskins,
Slave,
Stetsasonic,
Nico,
Janne Schatter,
Dual Sessions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Motorama,
the Germs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dead C,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gladiators,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Lower 48,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Sonic Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
The Blackbyrds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.