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 Sweden and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 The Martian 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Prince Buster,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
Peter and Kerry,
Idris Muhammad,
Alphaville,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
Gang of Four,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Image Ltd.,
Danielle Patucci,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick Morgan,
Rotary Connection,
Byron Stingily,
Terrestrial Tones,
FM Einheit,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Flag,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Motions,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Icehouse,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Fatback Band,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
Scion,
Dennis Brown,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Wally Richardson,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pole,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
kango's stein massive,
MC5,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Jandek,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.