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 Gambia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Ohio Players to the electroclash 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thompson Twins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minutemen,
Graham Central Station,
Colin Newman,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick Morgan,
X-101,
Nico,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultra Naté,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Neu!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Outsiders,
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
Mo-Dettes,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deakin,
Livin' Joy,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Flag,
Alton Ellis,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
Guru Guru,
Goldenarms,
Silicon Teens,
The Gun Club,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
Pere Ubu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
This Heat,
Nas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sound,
Procol Harum,
E-Dancer,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brothers Johnson,
Judy Mowatt,
Moss Icon,
Rakim,
Skarface,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
the Swans,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.