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 Bolivia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 David Bowie 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Ultra Naté,
Mary Jane Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neu!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Public Enemy,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nico,
Anthony Braxton,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
Danielle Patucci,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wire,
Harmonia,
The Victims,
Amazonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liliput,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Sherman,
Scan 7,
Drexciya,
Q and Not U,
The Last Poets,
Heaven 17,
Camouflage,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
Swell Maps,
Alison Limerick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pantytec,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
The Leaves,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.