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 Georgia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Neu!,
Barrington Levy,
Siglo XX,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Porter Ricks,
The Martian,
Bang On A Can,
Davy DMX,
the Germs,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
UT,
Whodini,
David Bowie,
These Immortal Souls,
Wings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roger Hodgson,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mad Mike,
One Last Wish,
AZ,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
John Coltrane,
kango's stein massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
Brand Nubian,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Angels of Light,
Godley & Creme,
Das Ding,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Jacques Brel,
Maurizio,
Oneida,
China Crisis,
The Gap Band,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wolf Eyes,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lightning Bolt,
the Human League,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.