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 Luxembourg and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Boz Scaggs,
The Toasters,
Idris Muhammad,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
Main Source,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soul II Soul,
Marmalade,
June Days,
Suicide,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nirvana,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
Guru Guru,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pere Ubu,
Slick Rick,
The Martian,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
Rekid,
Robert Hood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alton Ellis,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
Easy Going,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Monks,
Mars,
Tubeway Army,
Faust,
Connie Case,
Warren Ellis,
cv313,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reuben Wilson,
Harpers Bizarre,
June of 44,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
Albert Ayler,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.