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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
MDC,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
The Real Kids,
Quantec,
Sixth Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
La Düsseldorf,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Shoche,
Thee Headcoats,
Barclay James Harvest,
kango's stein massive,
The Gap Band,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Searchers,
Mary Jane Girls,
10cc,
Magma,
Grauzone,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blancmange,
The Barracudas,
Absolute Body Control,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Teasers,
Bluetip,
The Mojo Men,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
H. Thieme,
Second Layer,
Q and Not U,
Fat Boys,
Deepchord,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
Liliput,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Supertramp,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül II,
Circle Jerks,
Zero Boys,
Scrapy,
Dark Day,
Fad Gadget,
Pylon,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
Essential Logic,
Ohio Players,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.