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 Macedonia and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rap 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Agent Orange,
Symarip,
the Bar-Kays,
Aural Exciters,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Womack,
Stereo Dub,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Associates,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Zeros,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
Malaria!,
Cybotron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kayak,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Mo-Dettes,
Idris Muhammad,
Subhumans,
Cymande,
Fugazi,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Flash Fearless,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
World's Most,
Babytalk,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Anakelly,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
the Swans,
EPMD,
China Crisis,
Goldenarms,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Juan Atkins,
The Residents,
Lee Hazlewood,
James White and The Blacks,
John Lydon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.