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 Marshall Islands and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Ponytail,
Icehouse,
the Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
Ossler,
Q65,
Pere Ubu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joey Negro,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Von Mondo,
The Blues Magoos,
Scan 7,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
Boredoms,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Kas Product,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Kinks,
Gang Green,
Arthur Verocai,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Clarke,
Josef K,
The Mojo Men,
Skarface,
Sister Nancy,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
Lucky Dragons,
Suburban Knight,
Talk Talk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Slits,
Ornette Coleman,
T.S.O.L.,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Normal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Albert Ayler,
Hashim,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.