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 Yemen and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Jerry's Kids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mars,
Ornette Coleman,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Style,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
Scrapy,
Faust,
New Age Steppers,
Camouflage,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Ronan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Stooges,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
In Retrospect,
The Slackers,
Maurizio,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
Livin' Joy,
Boz Scaggs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funkadelic,
Maleditus Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Yaz,
Soft Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
Todd Terry,
Sexual Harrassment,
KRS-One,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magma,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Angels of Light,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.