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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bush Tetras to the electroclash 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
China Crisis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Style,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultravox,
These Immortal Souls,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
Whodini,
kango's stein massive,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blake Baxter,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Goldenarms,
Massinfluence,
DNA,
The Five Americans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monks,
Fluxion,
Quadrant,
Kerri Chandler,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bill Wells,
Wire,
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
The Leaves,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Electric Prunes,
Monks,
Television,
The Cramps,
Alphaville,
Von Mondo,
Barrington Levy,
Fad Gadget,
Marshall Jefferson,
Smog,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.