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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 The Music Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Altered Images,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
The Wake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barrington Levy,
Kaleidoscope,
Glenn Branca,
Infiniti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
Neu!,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
The Moleskins,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minnie Riperton,
Tim Buckley,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Parrish,
Ludus,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Trumans Water,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mantronix,
Glambeats Corp.,
Urselle,
Harmonia,
Franke,
Terry Callier,
The Happenings,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
World's Most,
Fat Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Talk Talk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Depeche Mode,
Wire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blossom Toes,
The Mojo Men,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.