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 United Kingdom and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
The Sound,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
The Durutti Column,
Todd Terry,
Buzzcocks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Josef K,
Toni Rubio,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
Grauzone,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Harry Pussy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pagans,
Leonard Cohen,
Cheater Slicks,
Parry Music,
Dead Boys,
Wings,
Yazoo,
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
The Blackbyrds,
Darondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Drexciya,
The Searchers,
Deepchord,
Shuggie Otis,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Vainqueur,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
Mars,
K-Klass,
Echospace,
The Invisible,
Ohio Players,
Yellowson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.