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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet 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 The Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
Deepchord,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Trojans,
Zapp,
Camberwell Now,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Gun Club,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Tears for Fears,
Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
June Days,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Wells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Letta Mbulu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
Massinfluence,
Los Fastidios,
Al Stewart,
Janne Schatter,
Danielle Patucci,
Main Source,
The Standells,
The Residents,
the Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
Talk Talk,
The Raincoats,
cv313,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Enemy,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.