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 Seychelles and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Louis and Bebe Barron 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smoke,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Sight & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
The Cure,
In Retrospect,
Soul II Soul,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Association,
The Zeros,
The Young Rascals,
The Offenders,
Whodini,
D'Angelo,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Mills,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
Lower 48,
Liliput,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
Clear Light,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantytec,
Susan Cadogan,
The Selecter,
Public Enemy,
Harmonia,
L. Decosne,
Todd Rundgren,
Easy Going,
Eric Copeland,
Tres Demented,
Pole,
The Fuzztones,
Reuben Wilson,
Tim Buckley,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Carl Craig,
the Slits,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Technova,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.