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 Kenya and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
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 theremin 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 The Mummies to the rap 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
In Retrospect,
World's Most,
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
The Birthday Party,
Sister Nancy,
Lungfish,
KRS-One,
Moby Grape,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
The Remains,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Charles Mingus,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Vogues,
Sam Rivers,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
The Gladiators,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
Kas Product,
UT,
The Music Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Underground Resistance,
Brand Nubian,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cecil Taylor,
Mark Hollis,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tim Buckley,
Roxette,
Easy Going,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Ken Boothe,
Maleditus Sound,
ABC,
John Lydon,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.