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 Lebanon and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Main Source,
Rekid,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boredoms,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
Anakelly,
Dennis Brown,
Hot Snakes,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
Faraquet,
Judy Mowatt,
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
The Mummies,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cameo,
Gang of Four,
The Blues Magoos,
Lucky Dragons,
The Wake,
Interpol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric Dolphy,
David McCallum,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Age Steppers,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blancmange,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
AZ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Goldenarms,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
Lightning Bolt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Josef K,
Amazonics,
Los Fastidios,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roxy Music,
the Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Cell,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.