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 Mauritius and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Lyres to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
World's Most,
Scrapy,
The Searchers,
In Retrospect,
Tim Buckley,
Kurtis Blow,
Joyce Sims,
Scratch Acid,
The Human League,
Pantytec,
The Moody Blues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lightning Bolt,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys,
Severed Heads,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Dennis Brown,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Con Funk Shun,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonic Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cheater Slicks,
Albert Ayler,
Clear Light,
Chris Corsano,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Nas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Germs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Young Marble Giants,
Junior Murvin,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques,
Mr. Review,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
Jimmy McGriff,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Visage,
Minutemen,
Fear,
Marshall Jefferson,
Japan,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slits,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.