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 Papua New Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge 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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faust,
Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Slick Rick,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
The Count Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABC,
Negative Approach,
Siglo XX,
Sixth Finger,
The Martian,
Popol Vuh,
Pulsallama,
Barry Ungar,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Arab on Radar,
Mad Mike,
Ituana,
Toni Rubio,
The Mummies,
Lightning Bolt,
X-101,
U.S. Maple,
Black Pus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
Sight & Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
Mark Hollis,
Agitation Free,
Silicon Teens,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Nico,
Slave,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.