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 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Inner City,
Agent Orange,
Bad Manners,
Cal Tjader,
Reagan Youth,
World's Most,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slave,
Joy Division,
The Shadows of Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mark Hollis,
OOIOO,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bronski Beat,
Wings,
New Order,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harmonia,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Procol Harum,
Symarip,
10cc,
Scientists,
Nik Kershaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Janne Schatter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Wells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
James White and The Blacks,
AZ,
K-Klass,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rites of Spring,
UT,
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Kool Moe Dee,
Easy Going,
Second Layer,
Loose Ends,
Q65,
Faust,
Japan,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.