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 Uruguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Iggy Pop to the techno 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Urselle,
Marc Almond,
Barry Ungar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare,
Kaleidoscope,
Henry Cow,
the Human League,
Public Enemy,
Mission of Burma,
Popol Vuh,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
Nik Kershaw,
Mark Hollis,
LL Cool J,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rotary Connection,
The Mummies,
The Wake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masters at Work,
JFA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Surgeon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Young Marble Giants,
Little Man,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pagans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Black Dice,
Trumans Water,
The Gun Club,
Siglo XX,
X-102,
Basic Channel,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.