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 Afghanistan and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Mission of Burma to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Masters at Work,
The Angels of Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
Bronski Beat,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Happenings,
Rapeman,
Leonard Cohen,
The Stooges,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blossom Toes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aswad,
Jandek,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
Skriet,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
The Evens,
Black Moon,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
Simply Red,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra,
the Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kaleidoscope,
The Five Americans,
Brass Construction,
Clear Light,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
Public Enemy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zapp,
The Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
Graham Central Station,
Man Parrish,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.