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 Qatar and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Henry Cow 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Certain Ratio,
Soft Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Albert Ayler,
The Slackers,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
Eurythmics,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Lydon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
Michelle Simonal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yaz,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Carl Craig,
Model 500,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
John Foxx,
Animal Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Sarah Menescal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang On A Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalann,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moody Blues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tres Demented,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Cecil Taylor,
Stetsasonic,
The Remains,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mantronix,
Scion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Associates,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.