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 Botswana 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Audionom to the grime 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
The Beau Brummels,
The Techniques,
Thee Headcoats,
Vladislav Delay,
Alice Coltrane,
Erasure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
The New Christs,
The Cramps,
the Normal,
The Residents,
Graham Central Station,
Crash Course in Science,
LL Cool J,
This Heat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wasted Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Trumans Water,
K-Klass,
Don Cherry,
Bob Dylan,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Sällskapet,
T.S.O.L.,
The Toasters,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Spoonie Gee,
Pole,
The Kinks,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Rekid,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
Bobby Sherman,
Audionom,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
Pantaleimon,
Quando Quango,
Blancmange,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.