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 Nicaragua and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lou Christie to the jazz 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science,
X-102,
Mark Hollis,
Drexciya,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
cv313,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
The Fugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tres Demented,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
Scan 7,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minny Pops,
Radiohead,
Q65,
Deepchord,
Severed Heads,
a-ha,
Ultra Naté,
Radiopuhelimet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sugar Minott,
Sound Behaviour,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
T.S.O.L.,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Green,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
Eurythmics,
The Walker Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Five Americans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cluster,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Stockholm Monsters,
10cc,
Yaz,
The Durutti Column,
Suicide,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cure,
The New Christs,
Fat Boys,
Whodini,
Anakelly,
Robert Wyatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.