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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Bobby Womack to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Dark Day,
Q65,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Popol Vuh,
Arab on Radar,
Motorama,
The Monks,
Eddi Front,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Sneak,
June of 44,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül II,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grauzone,
Youth Brigade,
U.S. Maple,
Don Cherry,
Wally Richardson,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter & Gordon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nils Olav,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Procol Harum,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
The Five Americans,
The Barracudas,
Ronan,
X-102,
Eric Copeland,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doors,
Franke,
Inner City,
Visage,
Sparks,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Age Steppers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Glenn Branca,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.