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 Sweden and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
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 organ 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 Crime to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
The Misunderstood,
Subhumans,
Black Sheep,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Green,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantaleimon,
The Fire Engines,
Shoche,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dirtbombs,
the Germs,
The Golliwogs,
Intrusion,
Franke,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Godley & Creme,
Royal Trux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Circle Jerks,
Moebius,
Lebanon Hanover,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
Todd Terry,
Alton Ellis,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bill Wells,
The Remains,
Skriet,
David Bowie,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
The Searchers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Rod Modell,
Ornette Coleman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Reagan Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Harmonia,
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.