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 Azerbaijan and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Monolake to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
X-Ray Spex,
Prince Buster,
Mad Mike,
The Music Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Piero Umiliani,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABBA,
Rekid,
Adolescents,
Japan,
Maurizio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Near,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
The Real Kids,
Dark Day,
Marc Almond,
The Divine Comedy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New Order,
Alice Coltrane,
The Modern Lovers,
David Axelrod,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
CMW,
Banda Bassotti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Letta Mbulu,
Audionom,
Anakelly,
Tom Boy,
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
Pole,
Morten Harket,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Coltrane,
The Associates,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anthony Braxton,
Kenny Larkin,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.