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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Essential Logic to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Guru Guru,
Jacques Brel,
Gong,
Chrome,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Foxx,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Q and Not U,
Sexual Harrassment,
Icehouse,
Spandau Ballet,
The J.B.'s,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Christie,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Suburban Knight,
Sonic Youth,
Fugazi,
Grey Daturas,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fugs,
Dead Boys,
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
Crime,
The Offenders,
Surgeon,
Tom Boy,
Brick,
Ornette Coleman,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maleditus Sound,
Cymande,
Yazoo,
Warren Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fluxion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Make Up,
Niagra,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
The Residents,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.