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 Malaysia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 X-102 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Eddi Front,
The Names,
Fear,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang of Four,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Human League,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
The Last Poets,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Piero Umiliani,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultra Naté,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dennis Brown,
F. McDonald,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
ABC,
Joe Finger,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül,
Lou Christie,
The Index,
Pantaleimon,
Fatback Band,
Quando Quango,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aloha Tigers,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun Ra,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Bowie,
Hoover,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.