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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-Ray Spex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ten City,
Morten Harket,
Toni Rubio,
Ituana,
Rhythm & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
The Monochrome Set,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Shadows of Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sight & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-102,
Model 500,
Gong,
Tropical Tobacco,
Intrusion,
Black Flag,
Shoche,
Gang Green,
Oneida,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
FM Einheit,
June of 44,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sexual Harrassment,
Procol Harum,
The Zeros,
Bob Dylan,
Michelle Simonal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Max Romeo,
Unwound,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Althea and Donna,
Cymande,
The Modern Lovers,
Soul II Soul,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.