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 Papua New Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trumans Water to the grunge 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
David McCallum,
Eurythmics,
Au Pairs,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
Essential Logic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
World's Most,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
Little Man,
Make Up,
Metal Thangz,
Zapp,
Cymande,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
Fela Kuti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Iggy Pop,
Minor Threat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Knickerbockers,
Accadde A,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
Soul II Soul,
The Remains,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Swans,
Dead Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
Easy Going,
JFA,
Josef K,
Black Moon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cure,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
E-Dancer,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cal Tjader,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
Half Japanese,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.