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 Barbados and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Severed Heads to the jazz 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delta 5,
The Fuzztones,
Yellowson,
Stetsasonic,
Rites of Spring,
Pylon,
Sister Nancy,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
John Lydon,
Johnny Clarke,
Can,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
Max Romeo,
Quadrant,
Iggy Pop,
Inner City,
Soulsonic Force,
The Invisible,
Pulsallama,
Quantec,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
Carl Craig,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
Surgeon,
In Retrospect,
The Raincoats,
Excepter,
Q and Not U,
Trumans Water,
The Modern Lovers,
Symarip,
Cymande,
Ossler,
Andrew Hill,
China Crisis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Fela Kuti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Walker Brothers,
The Remains,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.