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 Saudi Arabia and from London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 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 Jacques Brel to the funk 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Barrington Levy,
R.M.O.,
The Real Kids,
Panda Bear,
Nick Fraelich,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Man Eating Sloth,
David McCallum,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Don Cherry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
This Heat,
Terry Callier,
Essential Logic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Last Poets,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Aaron Thompson,
Erasure,
Brass Construction,
the Bar-Kays,
Cymande,
Juan Atkins,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
The Residents,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fugs,
Flipper,
Flash Fearless,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fortunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Patti Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Faraquet,
Electric Prunes,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
EPMD,
Eddi Front,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
The Techniques,
The Grass Roots,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.