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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Litter,
Minutemen,
The Music Machine,
Fear,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Sheep,
Hasil Adkins,
Bad Manners,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
Y Pants,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cecil Taylor,
Rod Modell,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rufus Thomas,
The Five Americans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
Rites of Spring,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Organ,
Zapp,
The Smoke,
Sound Behaviour,
Bizarre Inc.,
Henry Cow,
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Toni Rubio,
The Gap Band,
Grauzone,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Seeds,
Charles Mingus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Theoretical Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.