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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Young Marble Giants to the crunk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme,
Iggy Pop,
the Normal,
Sparks,
Visage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ohio Players,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minny Pops,
Monolake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Isaac Hayes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pagans,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lightning Bolt,
The Shadows of Knight,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Leaves,
Fluxion,
The Sonics,
Babytalk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra,
Infiniti,
Althea and Donna,
Subhumans,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tom Boy,
Lakeside,
Skarface,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Patti Smith,
Flipper,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
Scion,
Dawn Penn,
Glambeats Corp.,
Basic Channel,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.