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 Ecuador and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pantaleimon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smiths,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
Prince Buster,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
Pantaleimon,
Mr. Review,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Intrusion,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers,
Lungfish,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mars,
Warren Ellis,
The American Breed,
Curtis Mayfield,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
Loose Ends,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ice-T,
Masters at Work,
Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
Faraquet,
Scientists,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
the Germs,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
Visage,
The United States of America,
Lakeside,
Chrome,
Dawn Penn,
Janne Schatter,
Symarip,
Sonic Youth,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Dark Day,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.