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 Netherlands and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Reed & Metallica to the grime 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Depeche Mode,
Metal Thangz,
The New Christs,
The Durutti Column,
The Modern Lovers,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crime,
Black Moon,
The Searchers,
Ronan,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Babytalk,
Camberwell Now,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joyce Sims,
Quando Quango,
Albert Ayler,
Marmalade,
Youth Brigade,
The Cure,
Josef K,
The Motions,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Lou Reed,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Franke,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
The Human League,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
The Monks,
World's Most,
Rosa Yemen,
Excepter,
Jandek,
Aloha Tigers,
Guru Guru,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.