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 Nepal and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grunge 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Ice-T,
Kaleidoscope,
Howard Jones,
Lakeside,
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ludus,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
Rufus Thomas,
Tears for Fears,
Pylon,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Amon Düül II,
The Associates,
Depeche Mode,
Quantec,
Clear Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Icehouse,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stetsasonic,
B.T. Express,
John Holt,
the Swans,
Judy Mowatt,
Suburban Knight,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Derrick May,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Piero Umiliani,
Ituana,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Velvet Underground,
Albert Ayler,
10cc,
OOIOO,
Peter and Kerry,
Crooked Eye,
Von Mondo,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.