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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Bootsy Collins to the disco 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soulsonic Force,
the Bar-Kays,
Byron Stingily,
X-102,
The Invisible,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Bourne,
Minny Pops,
Clear Light,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Bluetip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris Corsano,
Derrick May,
The J.B.'s,
Godley & Creme,
The Fortunes,
Yaz,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats,
L. Decosne,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonic Youth,
Drexciya,
Dennis Brown,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
The Music Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maleditus Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
LL Cool J,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
The Busters,
Symarip,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Juan Atkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
The Fuzztones,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
Stereo Dub,
Jawbox,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.