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 Kiribati and from Paris.
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 Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Names to the dance 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Christie,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Junior Murvin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
The J.B.'s,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Camouflage,
Rotary Connection,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alice Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
Aswad,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeff Lynne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Max Romeo,
Accadde A,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
John Lydon,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
MC5,
A Certain Ratio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stetsasonic,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronnie Foster,
Glenn Branca,
Camberwell Now,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.