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 South Sudan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Derrick Morgan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
Eve St. Jones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Symarip,
UT,
The Associates,
Quadrant,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
The Skatalites,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
The Dirtbombs,
Brick,
Excepter,
Matthew Bourne,
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Guru Guru,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick May,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
The Busters,
Rufus Thomas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jandek,
Royal Trux,
MC5,
The Move,
Marc Almond,
Loose Ends,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Moss Icon,
Mission of Burma,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Raincoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonny Sharrock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.