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 Accra.
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 Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fela Kuti,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
The Leaves,
Scrapy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
cv313,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Donny Hathaway,
Suburban Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Cluster,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Pantytec,
LL Cool J,
X-101,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
KRS-One,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
Technova,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
Whodini,
Second Layer,
Pagans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Residents,
UT,
Ohio Players,
Sugar Minott,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ossler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ken Boothe,
Procol Harum,
The Moody Blues,
Chris & Cosey,
Anthony Braxton,
Porter Ricks,
Dual Sessions,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.