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 Cambodia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 Fat Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
June Days,
Heaven 17,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Q65,
Suicide,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sister Nancy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yusef Lateef,
Brick,
Fear,
Pantytec,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quando Quango,
T. Rex,
Godley & Creme,
Sandy B,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Starr,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arthur Verocai,
Swans,
Rod Modell,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
The Black Dice,
The Knickerbockers,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
Can,
Anthony Braxton,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
The Skatalites,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
New Order,
Ken Boothe,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express,
Erykah Badu,
Mars,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.