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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Theoretical Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
FM Einheit,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Standells,
Desert Stars,
The Fortunes,
PIL,
Alphaville,
Skarface,
The Offenders,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Inner City,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
Grey Daturas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Section 25,
8 Eyed Spy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Qualms,
John Holt,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pop Group,
Bob Dylan,
DJ Style,
The Selecter,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Move,
Danielle Patucci,
Blake Baxter,
Liliput,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bluetip,
cv313,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pulsallama,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Eurythmics,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.