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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Lydon to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Wolf Eyes,
T.S.O.L.,
Mars,
Monks,
Magazine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kaleidoscope,
The Selecter,
Gang Green,
Infiniti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wally Richardson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Idris Muhammad,
Theoretical Girls,
David McCallum,
Throbbing Gristle,
Motorama,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slackers,
Roxy Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
China Crisis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camouflage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
Lindisfarne,
Hardrive,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Danielle Patucci,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dave Gahan,
Freddie Wadling,
The Golliwogs,
Second Layer,
The Fuzztones,
Brand Nubian,
Absolute Body Control,
Sex Pistols,
Stereo Dub,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hasil Adkins,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.