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 Andorra and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Godley & Creme 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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
DJ Sneak,
Siglo XX,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Funkadelic,
Slave,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moby Grape,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Guru Guru,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Flag,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sonic Youth,
Todd Terry,
Mark Hollis,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
Jerry's Kids,
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
The Stooges,
Trumans Water,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
48th St. Collective,
Black Pus,
Junior Murvin,
The Mummies,
Fear,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.