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 Zimbabwe and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Aaron Thompson to the techno 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Whodini,
David Axelrod,
Surgeon,
the Sonics,
Kevin Saunderson,
Talk Talk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grauzone,
Slick Rick,
The Star Department,
The Selecter,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alphaville,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
Robert Görl,
The Sound,
Sun City Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Interpol,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Outsiders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Vogues,
Scion,
Godley & Creme,
The Victims,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mars,
Slave,
Lungfish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Y Pants,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
Motorama,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yusef Lateef,
Neil Young,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.