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 Brunei and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Chrome,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
MDC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zero Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
the Slits,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Swans,
Sällskapet,
Robert Wyatt,
The Five Americans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Dual Sessions,
Rod Modell,
The Smoke,
UT,
Minny Pops,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Enemy,
The Fall,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scan 7,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
Banda Bassotti,
Matthew Bourne,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harmonia,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mojo Men,
kango's stein massive,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Maleditus Sound,
Silicon Teens,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.