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 Andorra and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Buzzcocks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
JFA,
Michelle Simonal,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lindisfarne,
Sugar Minott,
Swell Maps,
Half Japanese,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tears for Fears,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
The Residents,
Cheater Slicks,
Unrelated Segments,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fall,
Mars,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Hoover,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Whodini,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
Quadrant,
Hardrive,
Pierre Henry,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ice-T,
LL Cool J,
Masters at Work,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roger Hodgson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gastr Del Sol,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barrington Levy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Newcleus,
Eurythmics,
Mark Hollis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Morten Harket,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Negative Approach,
Minny Pops,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.