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 Somalia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
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 marimba 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 K-Klass to the punk 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Happenings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anthony Braxton,
Main Source,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sex Pistols,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
FM Einheit,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
Public Image Ltd.,
Albert Ayler,
the Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter & Gordon,
Morten Harket,
Thee Headcoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lower 48,
The Dead C,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Wells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wally Richardson,
Isaac Hayes,
Scrapy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
Angry Samoans,
Moebius,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Saccharine Trust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pussy Galore,
Darondo,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Misunderstood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.