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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Althea and Donna to the techno 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
Franke,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
Funkadelic,
Barbara Tucker,
Moss Icon,
The Saints,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABC,
Model 500,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
K-Klass,
The Gap Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
JFA,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Machine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
The Kinks,
Cybotron,
The Five Americans,
Lightning Bolt,
Surgeon,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Crime,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Make Up,
John Lydon,
Maurizio,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
Kayak,
China Crisis,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Marc Almond,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Ultravox,
EPMD,
D'Angelo,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.