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 Kazakhstan and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Dead C to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
DJ Style,
Isaac Hayes,
Sällskapet,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra,
The Neon Judgement,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lower 48,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
The Gap Band,
Monolake,
Barrington Levy,
The Standells,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers,
Donald Byrd,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anthony Braxton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
Roxy Music,
Pole,
Cameo,
Groovy Waters,
The Stooges,
Royal Trux,
Young Marble Giants,
Porter Ricks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Henry Cow,
Chris & Cosey,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
Pierre Henry,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blancmange,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Finger,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young,
Quantec,
The Leaves,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hasil Adkins,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.