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 Switzerland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Sandy B to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Circle Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Mills,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Urselle,
Blossom Toes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
Fluxion,
The Birthday Party,
The Pretty Things,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alphaville,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
DJ Style,
Stockholm Monsters,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Funkadelic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Animal Collective,
a-ha,
Barrington Levy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Easy Going,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Prunes,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Archie Shepp,
Quadrant,
Wolf Eyes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deakin,
KRS-One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed,
Soulsonic Force,
Babytalk,
Sparks,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
Average White Band,
Silicon Teens,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ken Boothe,
Saccharine Trust,
Second Layer,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.