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 Zimbabwe 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Davy DMX to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Vogues,
Bluetip,
The Residents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aswad,
Cecil Taylor,
The Birthday Party,
Cybotron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Rapeman,
Easy Going,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tom Boy,
Marc Almond,
The Knickerbockers,
Schoolly D,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Whodini,
Newcleus,
Niagra,
Zapp,
a-ha,
Archie Shepp,
Chrome,
Make Up,
Unrelated Segments,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Real Kids,
Scan 7,
Roxy Music,
Albert Ayler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
Bill Wells,
The Gun Club,
Stiv Bators,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Half Japanese,
Girls At Our Best!,
Godley & Creme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
Goldenarms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.