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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Second Layer to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
Essential Logic,
Alphaville,
The Fuzztones,
Oneida,
The Skatalites,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
Ronan,
China Crisis,
Spandau Ballet,
Slave,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers,
Easy Going,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Jerry's Kids,
Junior Murvin,
the Swans,
Scientists,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Hood,
Jawbox,
One Last Wish,
Fatback Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radio Birdman,
The Mummies,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül II,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jandek,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Laurel Aitken,
Funky Four + One,
Rotary Connection,
Urselle,
Black Sheep,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sam Rivers,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.