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 Tanzania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Tres Demented to the grime 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
Bronski Beat,
The American Breed,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalann,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Albert Ayler,
The Monochrome Set,
Freddie Wadling,
Depeche Mode,
The Leaves,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Newcleus,
Easy Going,
Moby Grape,
Dead Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flipper,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
The Vogues,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Scan 7,
T. Rex,
Lucky Dragons,
The New Christs,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Pagans,
10cc,
Jandek,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.