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 Honduras and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Quadrant,
Section 25,
the Association,
FM Einheit,
Lalann,
Basic Channel,
Chris & Cosey,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young,
Procol Harum,
John Foxx,
Carl Craig,
The Electric Prunes,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Green,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
Harry Pussy,
Stereo Dub,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heaven 17,
Crime,
Idris Muhammad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anthony Braxton,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
The Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roy Ayers,
Absolute Body Control,
Rekid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Underground Resistance,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Q65,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.