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 St Lucia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultra Naté to the grime 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Negative Approach,
The Selecter,
Lindisfarne,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aural Exciters,
Skarface,
Gong,
Trumans Water,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
Country Teasers,
Mo-Dettes,
Lungfish,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
LL Cool J,
Popol Vuh,
Tom Boy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smoke,
The Doobie Brothers,
FM Einheit,
Scion,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Coltrane,
Moebius,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
Royal Trux,
Danielle Patucci,
The Monks,
The Young Rascals,
The Offenders,
Cybotron,
Susan Cadogan,
Subhumans,
Jacob Miller,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
New Order,
Severed Heads,
Schoolly D,
Mandrill,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eden Ahbez,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.