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 Greece and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
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 chamberlin 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 Deakin to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
David Bowie,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter & Gordon,
Howard Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Goldenarms,
Yusef Lateef,
Monolake,
Wolf Eyes,
Warsaw,
Surgeon,
Funkadelic,
the Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Christie,
Popol Vuh,
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Freddie Wadling,
the Normal,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
China Crisis,
Y Pants,
The Gladiators,
Jacob Miller,
Q and Not U,
Sex Pistols,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
Alison Limerick,
Infiniti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Danielle Patucci,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maurizio,
X-102,
Godley & Creme,
The Saints,
John Cale,
New Order,
The Divine Comedy,
Intrusion,
Delta 5,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.