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 Ireland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 PIL to the jazz 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Mo-Dettes,
Faust,
Kayak,
World's Most,
Bad Manners,
Zapp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
T. Rex,
Saccharine Trust,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
the Normal,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Skriet,
This Heat,
The Busters,
Lower 48,
Pierre Henry,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
Minor Threat,
Ponytail,
The Fuzztones,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
Talk Talk,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang of Four,
Letta Mbulu,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smoke,
Bronski Beat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Wells,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Pulsallama,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.