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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jandek to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
X-101,
John Lydon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wire,
Pulsallama,
Lungfish,
Massinfluence,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magma,
Shuggie Otis,
Eli Mardock,
Khruangbin,
Trumans Water,
Sound Behaviour,
Neu!,
Quadrant,
Simply Red,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Green,
The Grass Roots,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Maurizio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
U.S. Maple,
Camberwell Now,
Pole,
Monolake,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
The Raincoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Flag,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
John Holt,
Oneida,
Thompson Twins,
Johnny Clarke,
Excepter,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.