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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Schoolly D to the dance 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Blake Baxter,
The Saints,
Amazonics,
Pierre Henry,
The Searchers,
Index,
Gerry Rafferty,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Suicide,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Faraquet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Wire,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Offenders,
Derrick May,
Sällskapet,
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Letta Mbulu,
Gichy Dan,
Malaria!,
Duran Duran,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
Colin Newman,
Rod Modell,
Arcadia,
Tim Buckley,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Doors,
the Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
The Black Dice,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultravox,
Joensuu 1685,
Funky Four + One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marine Girls,
John Foxx,
Michelle Simonal,
Minny Pops,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Animal Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.