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 Poland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Magazine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
Sun City Girls,
Outsiders,
Monolake,
Delta 5,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
B.T. Express,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wally Richardson,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arthur Verocai,
The American Breed,
Loose Ends,
Reagan Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Skarface,
Patti Smith,
Anakelly,
Glenn Branca,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Altered Images,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Finger,
Con Funk Shun,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
Marcia Griffiths,
Japan,
The Walker Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.