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 Mexico and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Patti Smith,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Television Personalities,
Radiohead,
The Fuzztones,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eli Mardock,
John Holt,
Arcadia,
Dave Gahan,
Grauzone,
Ituana,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joy Division,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Mission of Burma,
Rapeman,
KRS-One,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
The Motions,
Bush Tetras,
The Count Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ponytail,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Halsall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
Quadrant,
The Fall,
the Slits,
The Buckinghams,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Au Pairs,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.