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 Benin and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
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 arpeggiator 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 Y Pants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brand Nubian,
The Raincoats,
Graham Central Station,
Public Image Ltd.,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Aural Exciters,
the Slits,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül,
Alphaville,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun City Girls,
Motorama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Bush Tetras,
E-Dancer,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lindisfarne,
Dennis Brown,
Youth Brigade,
Qualms,
Fatback Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
Moss Icon,
Minutemen,
Tommy Roe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Bananas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Peter and Kerry,
The Pop Group,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Johnny Clarke,
Aswad,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Josef K,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.