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 Portugal and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Harpers Bizarre to the electroclash 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Minnie Riperton,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barbara Tucker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moleskins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Marc Almond,
Motorama,
Bang On A Can,
Funkadelic,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
Harmonia,
MDC,
Graham Central Station,
Interpol,
Tears for Fears,
The Residents,
Barclay James Harvest,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Junior Murvin,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Happenings,
T.S.O.L.,
Nico,
Ten City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slave,
Scan 7,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
Slick Rick,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
MC5,
Ohio Players,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.