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 St Lucia and from Jakarta.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Isaac Hayes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Tommy Roe,
Black Flag,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
Severed Heads,
Robert Görl,
Nik Kershaw,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Half Japanese,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Outsiders,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Doobie Brothers,
Erasure,
Piero Umiliani,
Kas Product,
Shuggie Otis,
Malaria!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fuzztones,
X-102,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
Metal Thangz,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeff Mills,
Bauhaus,
Man Parrish,
Pulsallama,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mummies,
a-ha,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Jacob Miller,
Pylon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
Q65,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.