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 Egypt and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crispy Ambulance to the techno 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Offenders,
Darondo,
Jawbox,
The Blackbyrds,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Hood,
Altered Images,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maleditus Sound,
Das Ding,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeff Lynne,
Supertramp,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yazoo,
AZ,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Rod Modell,
Arthur Verocai,
The Real Kids,
The Mojo Men,
The Searchers,
Albert Ayler,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fall,
Joe Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Boredoms,
Index,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Sällskapet,
Wally Richardson,
Yusef Lateef,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Christie,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Scratch Acid,
Byron Stingily,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Suicide,
Smog,
Neil Young,
Junior Murvin,
the Bar-Kays,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.