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 Cameroon and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Cecil Taylor,
Dawn Penn,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Von Mondo,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
Robert Wyatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
E-Dancer,
Inner City,
The Fall,
Faraquet,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
Monks,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Rites of Spring,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Residents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Joe Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
D'Angelo,
the Swans,
Funky Four + One,
Yellowson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fugazi,
New Order,
X-101,
Barry Ungar,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Second Layer,
The Electric Prunes,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Remains,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABBA,
Scratch Acid,
Lightning Bolt,
Deepchord,
Soul Sonic Force,
Easy Going,
Mars,
Vladislav Delay,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.