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 Romania and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The United States of America to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Bill Wells,
Quando Quango,
Joy Division,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Al Stewart,
Barry Ungar,
Public Enemy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
AZ,
Dave Gahan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ludus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swell Maps,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Pus,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
B.T. Express,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
Shuggie Otis,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Neon Judgement,
Ken Boothe,
Quadrant,
Stetsasonic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rapeman,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Terry,
John Holt,
Interpol,
Aaron Thompson,
Byron Stingily,
Judy Mowatt,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.