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 Ukraine and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Procol Harum to the grime 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Angry Samoans,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Brick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Flag,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Dennis Brown,
Archie Shepp,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
UT,
Von Mondo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
The Misunderstood,
OOIOO,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Faraquet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Young Rascals,
The Happenings,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Warsaw,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skaos,
June of 44,
Joey Negro,
The Walker Brothers,
Sparks,
Darondo,
Inner City,
Schoolly D,
Audionom,
The Cowsills,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
The Gladiators,
Sam Rivers,
Shoche,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.