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 Philippines and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Isaac Hayes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
DNA,
Joe Smooth,
The Litter,
Scientists,
Q and Not U,
Mo-Dettes,
Prince Buster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
Flash Fearless,
Anakelly,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eve St. Jones,
Nirvana,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yazoo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cybotron,
Peter and Kerry,
Byron Stingily,
Minor Threat,
D'Angelo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Martian,
David McCallum,
Skriet,
Sparks,
In Retrospect,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lungfish,
The Gun Club,
Cal Tjader,
Massinfluence,
Excepter,
The Blackbyrds,
Tears for Fears,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mission of Burma,
Angry Samoans,
Kurtis Blow,
Half Japanese,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Swans,
The Fall,
kango's stein massive,
Pantaleimon,
48th St. Collective,
Bush Tetras,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.