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 Yemen and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
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 theremin 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 Ultravox to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siglo XX,
Marine Girls,
Gang Starr,
James White and The Blacks,
Audionom,
the Germs,
The Music Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cure,
The Red Krayola,
Rufus Thomas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dark Day,
Monolake,
Barbara Tucker,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
Rakim,
Scientists,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
World's Most,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Underground Resistance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Axelrod,
Dave Gahan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
Interpol,
Hashim,
Warsaw,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-101,
Delon & Dalcan,
Motorama,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
The Searchers,
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
PIL,
Stereo Dub,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Metal Thangz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Sherman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Rundgren,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.