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 Malaysia and from Beijing.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
Carl Craig,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Wally Richardson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Au Pairs,
The Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fuzztones,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
the Germs,
Arcadia,
Blake Baxter,
Eddi Front,
The Zeros,
James White and The Blacks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Beau Brummels,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pussy Galore,
Funky Four + One,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
K-Klass,
Terrestrial Tones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Albert Ayler,
Index,
World's Most,
Davy DMX,
Camouflage,
Drexciya,
Bad Manners,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Trumans Water,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Young Rascals,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
Reagan Youth,
Oneida,
Con Funk Shun,
Mission of Burma,
The Associates,
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.