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 Malta and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 linndrum 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 Ponytail to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grauzone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alphaville,
Qualms,
Radiohead,
The Zeros,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Halsall,
Deakin,
The Knickerbockers,
B.T. Express,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Index,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
David Bowie,
the Association,
Wally Richardson,
The Offenders,
Skaos,
Porter Ricks,
Black Sheep,
Au Pairs,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gichy Dan,
Desert Stars,
Dead Boys,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
Minor Threat,
The Leaves,
Harpers Bizarre,
Groovy Waters,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Q65,
Lalann,
The Martian,
the Slits,
Zapp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Cymande,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Malaria!,
Ludus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy Collins,
Shuggie Otis,
Amazonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.