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 Netherlands and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar 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 Leaves 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Thompson Twins,
Brand Nubian,
Camberwell Now,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kas Product,
John Lydon,
Fugazi,
June of 44,
Theoretical Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
The Velvet Underground,
Fela Kuti,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Joy Division,
Qualms,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Godley & Creme,
AZ,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül II,
Little Man,
EPMD,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
Loose Ends,
Jerry's Kids,
Ludus,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
DJ Sneak,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Sherman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Model 500,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Searchers,
Liliput,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Excepter,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.