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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Normal to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
Franke,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
Brothers Johnson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
A Certain Ratio,
The Skatalites,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Pus,
Brand Nubian,
Kaleidoscope,
Carl Craig,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fear,
Kas Product,
The Black Dice,
Parry Music,
the Normal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalo Schifrin,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blues Magoos,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Hood,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Negative Approach,
Eurythmics,
The Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
Lower 48,
Jerry's Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
Animal Collective,
Supertramp,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.