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 Hungary and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Todd Rundgren to the jazz 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 punk 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deepchord,
Laurel Aitken,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Juan Atkins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Age Steppers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
Ludus,
LL Cool J,
Maleditus Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Arcadia,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul Sonic Force,
Zapp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Eurythmics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
Icehouse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Residents,
Kaleidoscope,
Colin Newman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Malaria!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Sneak,
China Crisis,
Vainqueur,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scion,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
Motorama,
Marmalade,
Black Bananas,
Sun City Girls,
Model 500,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Iggy Pop,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.