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 Namibia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
the Germs,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yazoo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Morten Harket,
MDC,
Susan Cadogan,
Whodini,
Neu!,
The Searchers,
Sister Nancy,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Altered Images,
Minutemen,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
Flipper,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
Khruangbin,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T. Rex,
The Blues Magoos,
Pylon,
Au Pairs,
The Red Krayola,
Quadrant,
The Blackbyrds,
Q65,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fat Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zapp,
Nirvana,
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.