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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Smog to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Boz Scaggs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
Jandek,
Warsaw,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
Severed Heads,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Mills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lightning Bolt,
Moby Grape,
The Music Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Depeche Mode,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
D'Angelo,
MC5,
Ossler,
The Moleskins,
Aswad,
The Sonics,
Television,
The New Christs,
The Residents,
the Normal,
Kurtis Blow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
Loose Ends,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Morten Harket,
The Gap Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
The Techniques,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Masters at Work,
The Velvet Underground,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Terry,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.