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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DJ Sneak 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Unrelated Segments,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Big Daddy Kane,
KRS-One,
David Axelrod,
Chris & Cosey,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
ABC,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Henry Cow,
Nico,
The Remains,
In Retrospect,
Deakin,
Ronnie Foster,
Altered Images,
Can,
Model 500,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
New York Dolls,
Lower 48,
Circle Jerks,
Ituana,
the Association,
Magazine,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suburban Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Supertramp,
Smog,
Qualms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Youth Brigade,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
John Foxx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rod Modell,
Essential Logic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.