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 Yemen and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Associates,
Neil Young,
Connie Case,
Mission of Burma,
Sister Nancy,
Erykah Badu,
Arcadia,
David Axelrod,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Human League,
Unwound,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Womack,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warren Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Stetsasonic,
MC5,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Tubeway Army,
Banda Bassotti,
Sun City Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gun Club,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
Gong,
Michelle Simonal,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacques Brel,
Dead Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
The Music Machine,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minny Pops,
Zapp,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
The Saints,
the Normal,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.