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 Bahrain and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
John Coltrane,
PIL,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moleskins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Anthony Braxton,
One Last Wish,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pierre Henry,
Chrome,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mantronix,
Television,
Sparks,
Jandek,
OOIOO,
The Angels of Light,
kango's stein massive,
Sandy B,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
R.M.O.,
Sight & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Prunes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stetsasonic,
Hot Snakes,
Model 500,
Nils Olav,
Fad Gadget,
Ornette Coleman,
Boredoms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Victims,
The Cure,
Franke,
The Black Dice,
Quantec,
DNA,
The Divine Comedy,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.