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 Nauru and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
AZ,
Shoche,
Suicide,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
Gang Starr,
Pantytec,
Audionom,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
John Foxx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minutemen,
Prince Buster,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Grass Roots,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blancmange,
Parry Music,
The Litter,
The United States of America,
Quantec,
Chrome,
Hot Snakes,
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
Maleditus Sound,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Music Machine,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
DNA,
The Associates,
Aaron Thompson,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Halsall,
Main Source,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
H. Thieme,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
The Wake,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.