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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 Tremeloes to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
The Slits,
Roxy Music,
Pulsallama,
The Cure,
Masters at Work,
One Last Wish,
Popol Vuh,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Foxx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moby Grape,
Dark Day,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sam Rivers,
The Invisible,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
CMW,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The J.B.'s,
Sister Nancy,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül II,
Grauzone,
Kurtis Blow,
Nas,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
Wasted Youth,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moebius,
The Techniques,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
Sun Ra,
the Normal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
cv313,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
Matthew Halsall,
Nirvana,
Colin Newman,
PIL,
Godley & Creme,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.