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 Russia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Barclay James Harvest to the crunk 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minnie Riperton,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
Warsaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
The Toasters,
The Gories,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
10cc,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Green,
Vladislav Delay,
Aaron Thompson,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Byrd,
Howard Jones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
Deakin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Y Pants,
Heaven 17,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
B.T. Express,
Wings,
Interpol,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lower 48,
Deepchord,
Ultravox,
The Dave Clark Five,
LL Cool J,
Scrapy,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
Piero Umiliani,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.