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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
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 808 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Heaven 17,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Motions,
Tom Boy,
The Doors,
Donny Hathaway,
Funkadelic,
Davy DMX,
JFA,
The Associates,
Derrick Morgan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Main Source,
Quadrant,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Saints,
David McCallum,
Livin' Joy,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fortunes,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
Simply Red,
Siglo XX,
ABC,
OOIOO,
Pole,
Index,
John Holt,
Amazonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Jerry's Kids,
Excepter,
Brick,
Intrusion,
Fela Kuti,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
New Order,
Altered Images,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ice-T,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.