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 Guyana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Slave to the jazz 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alison Limerick,
Stiv Bators,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Youth Brigade,
Iggy Pop,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Golliwogs,
Severed Heads,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
The United States of America,
The Divine Comedy,
Bauhaus,
The Monochrome Set,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Wyatt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ornette Coleman,
Tropical Tobacco,
New Age Steppers,
Symarip,
Gichy Dan,
The Red Krayola,
Scientists,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
One Last Wish,
Gabor Szabo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
R.M.O.,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thompson Twins,
Nas,
Darondo,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
This Heat,
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minutemen,
Swans,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.