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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grime 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
Q and Not U,
Whodini,
Roger Hodgson,
Gabor Szabo,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nirvana,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques,
Amon Düül,
Silicon Teens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lungfish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James White and The Blacks,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Carl Craig,
Smog,
Funkadelic,
Lyres,
Letta Mbulu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Bad Manners,
Funky Four + One,
Rotary Connection,
Surgeon,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Can,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Toni Rubio,
Harry Pussy,
Thompson Twins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nas,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fugs,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
The Moody Blues,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Con Funk Shun,
Livin' Joy,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.