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 Cape Verde and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar 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 Lee Hazlewood to the punk 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun City Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Bourne,
Cal Tjader,
Scrapy,
The Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
Quantec,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
Wings,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Althea and Donna,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
The Moleskins,
Tres Demented,
Camouflage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drexciya,
Can,
EPMD,
Mantronix,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
These Immortal Souls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aswad,
D'Angelo,
John Foxx,
Ten City,
Average White Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.