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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Eric Dolphy to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Public Enemy,
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
Al Stewart,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Darondo,
The Index,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slave,
the Association,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Rakim,
The Gap Band,
Tubeway Army,
Brand Nubian,
Pierre Henry,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
CMW,
Yazoo,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Charles Mingus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
The Knickerbockers,
Flash Fearless,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gladiators,
Oneida,
Excepter,
The Motions,
Monolake,
Minor Threat,
Slick Rick,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echospace,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Little Man,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Wyatt,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fortunes,
The Cramps,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.