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 Nauru and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The New Christs,
Funky Four + One,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
The Skatalites,
Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
Schoolly D,
Warren Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
Radio Birdman,
Absolute Body Control,
Skaos,
Dave Gahan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fugazi,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
Joey Negro,
Niagra,
Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
Camberwell Now,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nik Kershaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
UT,
One Last Wish,
Ludus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Inner City,
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Hasil Adkins,
T.S.O.L.,
Kerri Chandler,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Godley & Creme,
The Human League,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.