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 Bahrain and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Talk Talk,
Robert Görl,
Skaos,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
The Fugs,
Gang Starr,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Yaz,
The Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shuggie Otis,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Aaron Thompson,
Erykah Badu,
Goldenarms,
Lindisfarne,
Brand Nubian,
Suicide,
Fat Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T.S.O.L.,
The Skatalites,
The Residents,
In Retrospect,
Parry Music,
Sandy B,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Busters,
Soft Cell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster,
Marmalade,
Sound Behaviour,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radiohead,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Intrusion,
the Germs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric B and Rakim,
The New Christs,
Ronnie Foster,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.