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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Q65 to the electroclash 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Erykah Badu,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman,
PIL,
Y Pants,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Moebius,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
the Sonics,
Cymande,
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
L. Decosne,
Jacob Miller,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cameo,
Warren Ellis,
Absolute Body Control,
The Offenders,
Kurtis Blow,
Agent Orange,
Swell Maps,
Marvin Gaye,
Archie Shepp,
Davy DMX,
Hoover,
Delta 5,
Boredoms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
T.S.O.L.,
Japan,
The Trojans,
The Monochrome Set,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pagans,
The Associates,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Index,
Wings,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.