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 Uruguay and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cecil Taylor to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
the Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
The Velvet Underground,
Moby Grape,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Standells,
Depeche Mode,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Alice Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rufus Thomas,
E-Dancer,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slits,
Urselle,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q65,
Television Personalities,
Basic Channel,
The Grass Roots,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gichy Dan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Y Pants,
The Blackbyrds,
Darondo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Adolescents,
Smog,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
Popol Vuh,
Chrome,
Man Parrish,
The Toasters,
Kerri Chandler,
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.