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 Malaysia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 In Retrospect to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Mummies,
Mark Hollis,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Man Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unwound,
Oneida,
Wire,
Suicide,
Dennis Brown,
Zapp,
Surgeon,
Brothers Johnson,
Crooked Eye,
The Smoke,
Youth Brigade,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
The Last Poets,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris Corsano,
John Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
Crime,
Dual Sessions,
CMW,
cv313,
Wasted Youth,
The Gories,
Sex Pistols,
Agent Orange,
Lucky Dragons,
Heaven 17,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Negative Approach,
Monks,
the Germs,
D'Angelo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
E-Dancer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
Boz Scaggs,
Inner City,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.