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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sex Pistols to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Prince Buster,
Pole,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Brass Construction,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Saccharine Trust,
David McCallum,
LL Cool J,
Q65,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris & Cosey,
Morten Harket,
Joensuu 1685,
The Detroit Cobras,
JFA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
Charles Mingus,
Idris Muhammad,
Urselle,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
Suburban Knight,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rod Modell,
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Offenders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacob Miller,
R.M.O.,
Das Ding,
Scion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Motions,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
Tomorrow,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
Aural Exciters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Velvet Underground,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pere Ubu,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.