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 Cambodia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deakin to the crunk 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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Albert Ayler,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed,
Grey Daturas,
Yellowson,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronan,
Johnny Clarke,
AZ,
The United States of America,
Neil Young,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
Black Bananas,
Inner City,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Laurel Aitken,
Icehouse,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Essential Logic,
Q and Not U,
Scott Walker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Adolescents,
The Birthday Party,
Television Personalities,
Brick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
Radio Birdman,
Ice-T,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Junior Murvin,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deakin,
Morten Harket,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
The Walker Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.