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 Nepal and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Popol Vuh to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Television,
Jawbox,
Max Romeo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dead Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Circle Jerks,
Letta Mbulu,
Chris & Cosey,
The Skatalites,
Smog,
Donny Hathaway,
Technova,
Yaz,
Patti Smith,
Bill Wells,
Kevin Saunderson,
OOIOO,
Suicide,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Supertramp,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
Yazoo,
Aural Exciters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gong,
Anakelly,
Hasil Adkins,
The Index,
The Doors,
Leonard Cohen,
Goldenarms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jerry's Kids,
Motorama,
D'Angelo,
U.S. Maple,
Pole,
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alice Coltrane,
Nico,
The Moody Blues,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
Joy Division,
Y Pants,
Aloha Tigers,
Man Eating Sloth,
These Immortal Souls,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.