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 Costa Rica and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Harry Pussy,
The Golliwogs,
Section 25,
Livin' Joy,
Glenn Branca,
Black Flag,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Von Mondo,
The Happenings,
Tears for Fears,
The Raincoats,
JFA,
The Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
Skriet,
The Fuzztones,
Scion,
Bill Wells,
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Saints,
Delta 5,
Michelle Simonal,
Franke,
Piero Umiliani,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eurythmics,
The Gap Band,
Los Fastidios,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Fraelich,
Surgeon,
Interpol,
Flamin' Groovies,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Thee Headcoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
Sixth Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Barracudas,
Nas,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Starr,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.