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 Namibia and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Görl to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Public Image Ltd.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
ABC,
the Slits,
Minutemen,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Rekid,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cure,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gladiators,
Bill Wells,
Delon & Dalcan,
Motorama,
Smog,
Drive Like Jehu,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio,
These Immortal Souls,
Slave,
Gichy Dan,
Michelle Simonal,
Fear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amon Düül,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
Harry Pussy,
Supertramp,
X-101,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar,
The Wake,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
X-Ray Spex,
The Residents,
Little Man,
Iggy Pop,
The Barracudas,
Soft Machine,
Black Bananas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Harmonia,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.