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 Belarus and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Prince Buster to the rock 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Rapeman,
Scratch Acid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Steve Hackett,
Banda Bassotti,
The Leaves,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül II,
Brick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yusef Lateef,
Motorama,
Hashim,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Camouflage,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Drexciya,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Wyatt,
Pagans,
Spoonie Gee,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Intrusion,
The Gun Club,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Basic Channel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
The American Breed,
Yellowson,
Arab on Radar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Alphaville,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
Ten City,
Susan Cadogan,
Schoolly D,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Pierre Henry,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.