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 Israel and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Monolake to the grime 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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Icehouse,
The Moleskins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Roxy Music,
The Grass Roots,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Görl,
One Last Wish,
Jandek,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Trojans,
Chrome,
Unrelated Segments,
Dead Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
Funkadelic,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
Depeche Mode,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lightning Bolt,
Monks,
Yaz,
Youth Brigade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Amon Düül,
Intrusion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
The Cowsills,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Altered Images,
Fela Kuti,
Anakelly,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
H. Thieme,
Ponytail,
the Association,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
F. McDonald,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.