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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Bizarre Inc. to the jazz 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Lakeside,
Bobby Byrd,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Au Pairs,
Smog,
Al Stewart,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Tom Boy,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Almond,
The Fortunes,
Prince Buster,
Davy DMX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Martian,
Danielle Patucci,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Kas Product,
The Mojo Men,
Albert Ayler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hoover,
Altered Images,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
These Immortal Souls,
Deakin,
The Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
Visage,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
The Kinks,
Jeff Mills,
Babytalk,
Scientists,
Erasure,
One Last Wish,
Sex Pistols,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.