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 East Timor and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Television to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The Cowsills,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dead C,
The Move,
Faraquet,
Porter Ricks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wally Richardson,
The Doors,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Eating Sloth,
The New Christs,
Pylon,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camouflage,
CMW,
Interpol,
Dark Day,
Altered Images,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
In Retrospect,
Todd Terry,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
June Days,
Yusef Lateef,
Bill Wells,
Faust,
Sarah Menescal,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Motorama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arab on Radar,
Sister Nancy,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Josef K,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
The Techniques,
Sun City Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donald Byrd,
Quadrant,
Yellowson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dawn Penn,
FM Einheit,
Suicide,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.