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 Angola and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Red Krayola to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Metal Thangz,
Joy Division,
John Cale,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swell Maps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grauzone,
Suburban Knight,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
Index,
Television Personalities,
Yellowson,
Visage,
Sonic Youth,
Reagan Youth,
Maurizio,
the Normal,
The Names,
Jacob Miller,
The Seeds,
Wire,
The Modern Lovers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bauhaus,
Kas Product,
The Cramps,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marine Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Holt,
The Residents,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
Darondo,
The Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Spoonie Gee,
Model 500,
Nas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Drive Like Jehu,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Jandek,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.