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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Martian to the punk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Joy Division,
Oblivians,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül,
Morten Harket,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television Personalities,
Ituana,
Moss Icon,
John Holt,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Kurtis Blow,
Bush Tetras,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
Kenny Larkin,
48th St. Collective,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Standells,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Drexciya,
David McCallum,
Eddi Front,
Zapp,
The Barracudas,
The Count Five,
Fad Gadget,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Soul II Soul,
Wasted Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang On A Can,
Television,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.