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 China and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
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 snare 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 Fluxion to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers,
Wings,
Oblivians,
Buzzcocks,
Suburban Knight,
John Foxx,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
Gang Starr,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pantaleimon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T. Rex,
The Residents,
Mad Mike,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
Arcadia,
Skriet,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Copeland,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Sparks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Saints,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sexual Harrassment,
Judy Mowatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Clarke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Ohio Players,
China Crisis,
Sound Behaviour,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.