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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Derrick May to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Donald Byrd,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Leonard Cohen,
Joe Smooth,
Nils Olav,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unrelated Segments,
Radiohead,
Heaven 17,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Offenders,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
Babytalk,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronnie Foster,
Blake Baxter,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
Al Stewart,
The Shadows of Knight,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arab on Radar,
Deakin,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dead Boys,
Vladislav Delay,
Duran Duran,
Cymande,
the Slits,
Adolescents,
LL Cool J,
Banda Bassotti,
Arcadia,
The Neon Judgement,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.