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 Zambia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Max Romeo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Niagra,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Jandek,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Sheep,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
Yazoo,
Trumans Water,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crooked Eye,
Bizarre Inc.,
DNA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moss Icon,
Theoretical Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neu!,
Bob Dylan,
Boredoms,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
The Blackbyrds,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
The Associates,
Traffic Nightmare,
PIL,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
U.S. Maple,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David McCallum,
Sam Rivers,
The Monochrome Set,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suicide,
Aswad,
Tubeway Army,
The Detroit Cobras,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
The Standells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.