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 Nauru and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Wake,
The Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Pole,
The Birthday Party,
the Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Eden Ahbez,
The Monochrome Set,
Sandy B,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Lydon,
F. McDonald,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
The Busters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ken Boothe,
kango's stein massive,
Steve Hackett,
The Toasters,
The Tremeloes,
Morten Harket,
Audionom,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Loose Ends,
Severed Heads,
Pere Ubu,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Blossom Toes,
The Gap Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Scrapy,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
Rotary Connection,
the Normal,
Magma,
Wire,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.