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 Mozambique and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Junior Murvin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Patti Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Crime,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Wells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Associates,
Al Stewart,
MDC,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
Sister Nancy,
Lindisfarne,
Suicide,
Television,
Kurtis Blow,
the Slits,
Excepter,
Flash Fearless,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Wings,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
New York Dolls,
The Motions,
The Evens,
E-Dancer,
Slick Rick,
Yazoo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lucky Dragons,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Scientists,
David Bowie,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
Alice Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Easy Going,
The Young Rascals,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arcadia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
Second Layer,
Kerrie Biddell,
Buzzcocks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Can,
Flipper,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ludus,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.