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 East Timor and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angry Samoans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Ossler,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Ludus,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Moss Icon,
Derrick May,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cal Tjader,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Techniques,
Ralphi Rosario,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mojo Men,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
The Durutti Column,
Nico,
Scrapy,
Swell Maps,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Funky Four + One,
Quadrant,
The Slits,
Dual Sessions,
Average White Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Pus,
The Grass Roots,
Isaac Hayes,
Banda Bassotti,
Sällskapet,
In Retrospect,
Lakeside,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Half Japanese,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
Warren Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Alison Limerick,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.