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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
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 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 Section 25 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Yusef Lateef,
Johnny Clarke,
June Days,
Wasted Youth,
Minny Pops,
Severed Heads,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bizarre Inc.,
10cc,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
a-ha,
Wings,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
Bobby Womack,
Erykah Badu,
Average White Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skarface,
Lightning Bolt,
Nas,
Rakim,
Skriet,
Jandek,
Public Enemy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gories,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scrapy,
R.M.O.,
Black Sheep,
Agent Orange,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joyce Sims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
Fluxion,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Alison Limerick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Saints,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Black Bananas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Green,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wally Richardson,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.