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 Kosovo and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 Nick Fraelich to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Deakin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Half Japanese,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
Swell Maps,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quando Quango,
Marmalade,
Thompson Twins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minor Threat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Soft Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
The Residents,
Glenn Branca,
Janne Schatter,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Erykah Badu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sixth Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scratch Acid,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
Amazonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Laurel Aitken,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flipper,
Susan Cadogan,
In Retrospect,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Sherman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
Faraquet,
Fela Kuti,
Boz Scaggs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Q and Not U,
Camberwell Now,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.