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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Y Pants to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Zapp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Albert Ayler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minutemen,
Niagra,
Popol Vuh,
Arcadia,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget,
Cheater Slicks,
Technova,
Eddi Front,
Tim Buckley,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lakeside,
Kenny Larkin,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oblivians,
Funkadelic,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monochrome Set,
Joensuu 1685,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Audionom,
Animal Collective,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Altered Images,
Boogie Down Productions,
Qualms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ludus,
Motorama,
Mark Hollis,
Alton Ellis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
Ponytail,
Dual Sessions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick May,
Ice-T,
Dead Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
Agitation Free,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.