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 Belize and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
The Skatalites,
Shoche,
Unwound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
Ken Boothe,
Roxette,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
The Saints,
Thee Headcoats,
The Neon Judgement,
Zero Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
Harmonia,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül II,
Trumans Water,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
The Evens,
Danielle Patucci,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Sherman,
Scratch Acid,
The Black Dice,
Outsiders,
Chris Corsano,
Kayak,
The Busters,
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barclay James Harvest,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
Von Mondo,
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skriet,
Jeff Mills,
The Searchers,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Brand Nubian,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DNA,
The Leaves,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.