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 Serbia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Steve Hackett to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mojo Men,
The Vogues,
The Remains,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The American Breed,
cv313,
Stiv Bators,
Kas Product,
Model 500,
The Knickerbockers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
E-Dancer,
Little Man,
Agitation Free,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Slits,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Moebius,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mummies,
Organ,
Derrick Morgan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Panda Bear,
The Misunderstood,
Fat Boys,
Q and Not U,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Christie,
Dark Day,
Groovy Waters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
Wally Richardson,
Ornette Coleman,
Glenn Branca,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
EPMD,
Nas,
Fad Gadget,
Second Layer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.