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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Nas to the crunk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
PIL,
The Star Department,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
Symarip,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brand Nubian,
Theoretical Girls,
The Residents,
Man Parrish,
Judy Mowatt,
Desert Stars,
Skriet,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
Pierre Henry,
New Order,
Joyce Sims,
Derrick May,
Aaron Thompson,
Joey Negro,
Camberwell Now,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Accadde A,
The Beau Brummels,
June Days,
Intrusion,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
Tears for Fears,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Invisible,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Pus,
Connie Case,
Loose Ends,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Index,
Dave Gahan,
UT,
AZ,
Interpol,
Flamin' Groovies,
Darondo,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Minnie Riperton,
Marvin Gaye,
Matthew Halsall,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.