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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 Moleskins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rosa Yemen,
The Saints,
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minnie Riperton,
Boz Scaggs,
Thee Headcoats,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
D'Angelo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Michelle Simonal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
June of 44,
B.T. Express,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Lydon,
Half Japanese,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
The Toasters,
The Residents,
Liliput,
Warren Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Maleditus Sound,
Eurythmics,
The Busters,
Pharoah Sanders,
DNA,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
Royal Trux,
The Pop Group,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.