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 El Salvador and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Coltrane to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Ultra Naté,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül II,
Theoretical Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Pierre Henry,
Idris Muhammad,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
Pagans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Holt,
Crime,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oblivians,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
Ice-T,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Masters at Work,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Monolake,
June of 44,
Country Teasers,
La Düsseldorf,
Derrick May,
Symarip,
Mars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club,
Kurtis Blow,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alton Ellis,
The Star Department,
Alison Limerick,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hoover,
The Move,
Moebius,
Patti Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Faust,
Icehouse,
Kerri Chandler,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Joensuu 1685,
Cameo,
Black Bananas,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.