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 Iceland and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
the Sonics,
Gang Starr,
Model 500,
The Tremeloes,
Donald Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
OOIOO,
Accadde A,
Camberwell Now,
Wasted Youth,
Ronan,
Bill Wells,
Joyce Sims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
The Last Poets,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
kango's stein massive,
Mark Hollis,
Marmalade,
Brand Nubian,
Henry Cow,
Swans,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Main Source,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
Lindisfarne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Y Pants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roy Ayers,
Crime,
Brass Construction,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
Lebanon Hanover,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
Slave,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joey Negro,
New Order,
JFA,
EPMD,
Sugar Minott,
David Bowie,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cramps,
The Standells,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.