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 Croatia and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Half Japanese,
Juan Atkins,
The American Breed,
Sister Nancy,
John Cale,
The Associates,
Urselle,
Ultravox,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Darondo,
Amon Düül,
World's Most,
Mo-Dettes,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
Max Romeo,
Nas,
The Grass Roots,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lalann,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
Index,
Idris Muhammad,
Unrelated Segments,
Von Mondo,
The Modern Lovers,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
JFA,
Inner City,
The Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Almond,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pretty Things,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jawbox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Terry,
The Busters,
Black Bananas,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
These Immortal Souls,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.