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 Bahamas and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Blancmange to the punk 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
Skriet,
The Saints,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Görl,
Scan 7,
Lee Hazlewood,
Godley & Creme,
Khruangbin,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Reagan Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
The Raincoats,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sonic Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
L. Decosne,
Tommy Roe,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Duran Duran,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Nirvana,
Thee Headcoats,
John Cale,
Whodini,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Searchers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bronski Beat,
KRS-One,
Gong,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alton Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barrington Levy,
Bad Manners,
The Fuzztones,
Audionom,
Susan Cadogan,
World's Most,
T.S.O.L.,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.