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 Cape Verde and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Black Sheep to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
Tommy Roe,
Agitation Free,
Dead Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rites of Spring,
The Wake,
The Cowsills,
Barry Ungar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Kas Product,
The Vogues,
E-Dancer,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronan,
Japan,
Adolescents,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Archie Shepp,
Scrapy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Deepchord,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
a-ha,
Derrick Morgan,
The Busters,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Janne Schatter,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Buzzcocks,
Rufus Thomas,
Negative Approach,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vainqueur,
Marine Girls,
Skaos,
The Golliwogs,
Lungfish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.