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 Ecuador and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 F. McDonald to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Erasure,
The Wake,
Michelle Simonal,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
Bronski Beat,
Minny Pops,
Cybotron,
Eddi Front,
Infiniti,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Copeland,
Donny Hathaway,
The Busters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pylon,
Smog,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
Zapp,
Little Man,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delta 5,
The Doors,
Shoche,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Ice-T,
Prince Buster,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Wire,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Electric Prunes,
Swans,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Ornette Coleman,
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
Thee Headcoats,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.