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 Moldova and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wolf Eyes to the punk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Saccharine Trust,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
Symarip,
Procol Harum,
Reuben Wilson,
Japan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Newcleus,
Faust,
Leonard Cohen,
Deepchord,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
The Blackbyrds,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Letta Mbulu,
John Coltrane,
The Evens,
Icehouse,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
The Victims,
The Slits,
Scott Walker,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
The Fuzztones,
Moss Icon,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
The Golliwogs,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
Dennis Brown,
Swell Maps,
Babytalk,
June Days,
Sun City Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.