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 San Marino and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal,
Scrapy,
Yusef Lateef,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy,
Gang Starr,
New Order,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
The Leaves,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
10cc,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cure,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Neil Young,
Warsaw,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bronski Beat,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Görl,
Dave Gahan,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Stooges,
Lungfish,
Faust,
Von Mondo,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
Skriet,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.