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 Denmark and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Jawbox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Interpol,
The Skatalites,
Hoover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Hill,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
One Last Wish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Popol Vuh,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skarface,
8 Eyed Spy,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Byrd,
The Blues Magoos,
Stiv Bators,
Aaron Thompson,
Piero Umiliani,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Angry Samoans,
Eddi Front,
Davy DMX,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
Wolf Eyes,
Camouflage,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dirtbombs,
Sugar Minott,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Morten Harket,
Index,
Judy Mowatt,
PIL,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yellowson,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Machine,
Country Teasers,
Japan,
The Associates,
Ponytail,
FM Einheit,
The Slackers,
David Axelrod,
Susan Cadogan,
Pere Ubu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Colin Newman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.