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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Bananas to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Cymande,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Althea and Donna,
John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yellowson,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fortunes,
Mantronix,
Altered Images,
Gang Starr,
Das Ding,
Stetsasonic,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Qualms,
Charles Mingus,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers,
10cc,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerrie Biddell,
MDC,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Thee Headcoats,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Swans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agitation Free,
Depeche Mode,
Prince Buster,
Skarface,
Blossom Toes,
Brand Nubian,
Index,
In Retrospect,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
Rotary Connection,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Black Pus,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Green,
This Heat,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.