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 Gabon and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Golliwogs to the grunge 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quantec,
AZ,
Trumans Water,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
Deakin,
Das Ding,
CMW,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joy Division,
Maleditus Sound,
Adolescents,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Procol Harum,
Fela Kuti,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
Rosa Yemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
New York Dolls,
Aswad,
Desert Stars,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
Barrington Levy,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
cv313,
Fugazi,
Dead Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mantronix,
Thompson Twins,
Organ,
Magma,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
China Crisis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
Janne Schatter,
The Music Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
FM Einheit,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Sun City Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
Hot Snakes,
Unrelated Segments,
Tubeway Army,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.