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 South Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 The Seeds to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Intrusion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mission of Burma,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Glambeats Corp.,
This Heat,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
Delta 5,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
Wire,
Nirvana,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gun Club,
The Real Kids,
Rites of Spring,
Yaz,
Lyres,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
Hardrive,
Hot Snakes,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Sherman,
Cecil Taylor,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
The Kinks,
Sex Pistols,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Parry Music,
Derrick May,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
ABC,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Morten Harket,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.