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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Residents to the dance 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gong,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
B.T. Express,
Mr. Review,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Oneida,
Sonic Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
Skaos,
Supertramp,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Terry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
Soul II Soul,
Index,
Eric Copeland,
MC5,
The Fuzztones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Echospace,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
Yellowson,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
Make Up,
Scrapy,
Bang On A Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Names,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Byrd,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.