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 Morocco and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Mr. Review,
Rekid,
the Germs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Accadde A,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
This Heat,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Glenn Branca,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Graham Central Station,
Michelle Simonal,
Excepter,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
The Slackers,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Ken Boothe,
Sound Behaviour,
Severed Heads,
Fat Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Cecil Taylor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Smooth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
Mantronix,
KRS-One,
a-ha,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eric Dolphy,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.