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 Suriname and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Unrelated Segments to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Neil Young,
The Fall,
Agent Orange,
T. Rex,
Gichy Dan,
The Happenings,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville,
Khruangbin,
Tommy Roe,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
The Standells,
Warsaw,
D'Angelo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeff Lynne,
Royal Trux,
Pulsallama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Move,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Zeros,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Sugar Minott,
PIL,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Ronan,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ponytail,
Negative Approach,
Alison Limerick,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar,
Cecil Taylor,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Joe Finger,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.