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 Argentina and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Robert Hood to the disco 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Main Source,
Zero Boys,
The Names,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
R.M.O.,
Das Ding,
Slick Rick,
The Evens,
Technova,
June Days,
Funkadelic,
The Knickerbockers,
Oneida,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
Lyres,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Raincoats,
Slave,
the Bar-Kays,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
H. Thieme,
Audionom,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Carl Craig,
The Beau Brummels,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Bad Manners,
The Selecter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smoke,
Funky Four + One,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
Basic Channel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Almond,
Alton Ellis,
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Slits,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Accadde A,
Grauzone,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.