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 Luxembourg and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Jawbox,
Minnie Riperton,
Essential Logic,
Marc Almond,
Parry Music,
Agitation Free,
Yaz,
Dennis Brown,
ABBA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dead C,
Roxy Music,
The Gladiators,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nirvana,
The Saints,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
New Order,
Bauhaus,
Barbara Tucker,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
A Certain Ratio,
Wolf Eyes,
The Standells,
Babytalk,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
Main Source,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Happenings,
Quantec,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
Pulsallama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Trumans Water,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
Public Enemy,
New Age Steppers,
Absolute Body Control,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.