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 Estonia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Goldenarms,
Sarah Menescal,
Fat Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crooked Eye,
Magazine,
Connie Case,
Main Source,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dead Boys,
Howard Jones,
Intrusion,
Marine Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Litter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Cameo,
Alice Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cybotron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
The Birthday Party,
Hardrive,
T.S.O.L.,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun City Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
Buzzcocks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Modern Lovers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Knickerbockers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Archie Shepp,
Ludus,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
Moss Icon,
Suicide,
Sun Ra,
cv313,
UT,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.