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 Paraguay and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 Absolute Body Control to the grunge 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arab on Radar,
The Smoke,
L. Decosne,
Metal Thangz,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slackers,
Colin Newman,
Chrome,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Wyatt,
Funkadelic,
Adolescents,
The Motions,
Dark Day,
Chris & Cosey,
Minnie Riperton,
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
Unwound,
Pere Ubu,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Nik Kershaw,
David Bowie,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Remains,
Wally Richardson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Radio Birdman,
H. Thieme,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skarface,
The Seeds,
Goldenarms,
The Wake,
Toni Rubio,
The Offenders,
Roxy Music,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
Mad Mike,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Clarke,
Soul II Soul,
Yazoo,
Moby Grape,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.