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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pierre Henry,
Magma,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scrapy,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
The Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moody Blues,
Yazoo,
Alton Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Khruangbin,
Pylon,
Joy Division,
Donald Byrd,
Trumans Water,
LL Cool J,
Ultravox,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
Visage,
Kenny Larkin,
The Smiths,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Man Parrish,
CMW,
The Slackers,
Patti Smith,
Godley & Creme,
The Doors,
Mandrill,
PIL,
The United States of America,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Trojans,
The Divine Comedy,
Quando Quango,
T.S.O.L.,
Janne Schatter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Niagra,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
Magazine,
The Standells,
Sparks,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.