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 Brunei and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Severed Heads to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Motorama,
Tres Demented,
Leonard Cohen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stereo Dub,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
Carl Craig,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tommy Roe,
The Fugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Subhumans,
Agitation Free,
Black Moon,
Sparks,
The American Breed,
Electric Prunes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
Urselle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Fatback Band,
AZ,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock,
Tim Buckley,
Chrome,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Television Personalities,
Ultra Naté,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gories,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
Qualms,
Fela Kuti,
The Smoke,
Fear,
Massinfluence,
The Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.