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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Donald Fagen 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 Young Marble Giants to the electroclash 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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Star Department,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Byron Stingily,
Sandy B,
Nation of Ulysses,
Graham Central Station,
Tom Boy,
PIL,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Almond,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moebius,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tubeway Army,
La Düsseldorf,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Agent Orange,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Magazine,
Charles Mingus,
Zero Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxy Music,
Depeche Mode,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Oblivians,
Royal Trux,
Con Funk Shun,
Mark Hollis,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Sight & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Minnie Riperton,
The Raincoats,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
Livin' Joy,
Buzzcocks,
Inner City,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.