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 Nepal and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the jazz 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
The Happenings,
Jandek,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Groovy Waters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mighty Diamonds,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
The Doors,
Delta 5,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultra Naté,
Quando Quango,
The New Christs,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Joy Division,
Jawbox,
Lucky Dragons,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Junior Murvin,
T. Rex,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
H. Thieme,
Depeche Mode,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Sonny Sharrock,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
ABBA,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Hill,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Almond,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
Sonic Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.