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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
Suburban Knight,
The Selecter,
UT,
The Five Americans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Heaven 17,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
T. Rex,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nils Olav,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Toasters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Count Five,
Can,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
E-Dancer,
Shuggie Otis,
John Holt,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
Gichy Dan,
Skarface,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
Tres Demented,
The Zeros,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joe Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Cheater Slicks,
Hot Snakes,
The Smoke,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
Janne Schatter,
Reagan Youth,
The Gladiators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.