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 Haiti and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Selecter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Wake,
Brass Construction,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sparks,
David McCallum,
Jacques Brel,
Youth Brigade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Lydon,
X-101,
Fat Boys,
Albert Ayler,
New Order,
Brand Nubian,
Siglo XX,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
Japan,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cowsills,
Mission of Burma,
Audionom,
Vainqueur,
Urselle,
Visage,
The Gladiators,
Joensuu 1685,
Alphaville,
Thompson Twins,
Talk Talk,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Ossler,
Arcadia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Music Machine,
The Red Krayola,
the Human League,
Lindisfarne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Smiths,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joe Finger,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.