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 Vanuatu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fat Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scratch Acid,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Judy Mowatt,
Fela Kuti,
Max Romeo,
Sun City Girls,
Hardrive,
Man Parrish,
Nils Olav,
Laurel Aitken,
Eli Mardock,
The Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Remains,
Rhythm & Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
La Düsseldorf,
UT,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amazonics,
The Fugs,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
Hasil Adkins,
Harmonia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barbara Tucker,
Section 25,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
The Star Department,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Soulsonic Force,
Fugazi,
Mantronix,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slave,
the Association,
Country Teasers,
Alton Ellis,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.