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 China and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bauhaus to the grunge 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
The Seeds,
Organ,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Talk Talk,
One Last Wish,
Eve St. Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
The Invisible,
Robert Hood,
Parry Music,
Masters at Work,
Ultravox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aural Exciters,
Aaron Thompson,
Banda Bassotti,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
Stiv Bators,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drive Like Jehu,
Anakelly,
June of 44,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rod Modell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Colin Newman,
Khruangbin,
Hashim,
Liliput,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
John Lydon,
Cybotron,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Howard Jones,
David Bowie,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Music Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
Kerrie Biddell,
PIL,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.