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 Vietnam and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Drive Like Jehu to the grunge 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pantaleimon,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Dark Day,
Charles Mingus,
The Human League,
Lungfish,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Vladislav Delay,
The Star Department,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Liliput,
The Smiths,
The Sonics,
Cybotron,
JFA,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Cluster,
Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Symarip,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pagans,
Trumans Water,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare,
Brand Nubian,
Mr. Review,
The Tremeloes,
Eli Mardock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Franke,
Wasted Youth,
Organ,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABBA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
The Moleskins,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
X-101,
Alphaville,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.