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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Nick Fraelich to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
Clear Light,
Visage,
Slave,
the Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Smooth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler,
Black Bananas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camberwell Now,
Negative Approach,
The Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Spoonie Gee,
The Human League,
Heaven 17,
A Certain Ratio,
Symarip,
Albert Ayler,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Monks,
Patti Smith,
Inner City,
PIL,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tom Boy,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
Kevin Saunderson,
Altered Images,
Youth Brigade,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brick,
Deadbeat,
Public Enemy,
Graham Central Station,
Smog,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Index,
John Lydon,
Blancmange,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Victims,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.