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 Burundi and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Schoolly D to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pere Ubu,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
MDC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
OOIOO,
Subhumans,
Harry Pussy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rites of Spring,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
New Order,
Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Suicide,
Theoretical Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
Pylon,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quando Quango,
Nils Olav,
The Remains,
Idris Muhammad,
Quantec,
The Stooges,
Steve Hackett,
Little Man,
Cecil Taylor,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
Excepter,
Franke,
Zero Boys,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.