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 Iceland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Public Enemy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radio Birdman,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Gong,
the Bar-Kays,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sister Nancy,
Shoche,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
The Leaves,
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Patti Smith,
Quando Quango,
Inner City,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
Minor Threat,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Organ,
The Standells,
Sparks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Moody Blues,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Suicide,
Talk Talk,
Silicon Teens,
James White and The Blacks,
Minnie Riperton,
Audionom,
The Slits,
DJ Sneak,
Anakelly,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.