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 Congo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Johannesburg and Houston.
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 rhodes 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 Black Pus to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Jawbox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Germs,
Simply Red,
Fugazi,
Bobby Womack,
New Age Steppers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Surgeon,
Hot Snakes,
Newcleus,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Enemy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Moody Blues,
The Grass Roots,
Dual Sessions,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Black Flag,
Barrington Levy,
Little Man,
Arthur Verocai,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Albert Ayler,
The Associates,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
Tomorrow,
Ronnie Foster,
Chrome,
Nico,
Echospace,
John Cale,
Mad Mike,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
Vainqueur,
Saccharine Trust,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
EPMD,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.