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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Faraquet to the jazz 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mark Hollis,
Brick,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Darondo,
Country Teasers,
The Gap Band,
The Tremeloes,
Aaron Thompson,
Mad Mike,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bluetip,
Minor Threat,
Suicide,
Organ,
Crime,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Germs,
Moebius,
Soulsonic Force,
The Techniques,
Mo-Dettes,
Lightning Bolt,
Swell Maps,
Sight & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Junior Murvin,
The Dead C,
Sex Pistols,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
The J.B.'s,
Aloha Tigers,
Eve St. Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
The Offenders,
Arab on Radar,
Siglo XX,
Kas Product,
the Association,
Whodini,
The Golliwogs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dual Sessions,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
The Beau Brummels,
the Bar-Kays,
Joey Negro,
Heaven 17,
Sparks,
Suburban Knight,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.