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 Haiti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Radiohead to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Malaria!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare,
Au Pairs,
Alison Limerick,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Silicon Teens,
Dead Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Tom Boy,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
Essential Logic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dennis Brown,
Franke,
Con Funk Shun,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Funkadelic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
ABC,
X-Ray Spex,
The Litter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camouflage,
Interpol,
Eve St. Jones,
Faust,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
10cc,
Accadde A,
Joey Negro,
Dawn Penn,
Agitation Free,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
Mad Mike,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Suicide,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Public Enemy,
The Slits,
Gong,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.