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 Cameroon and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Freddie Wadling to the rock 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
Cal Tjader,
Youth Brigade,
Rosa Yemen,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
Hoover,
Kenny Larkin,
Anakelly,
Wasted Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
James White and The Blacks,
Don Cherry,
Howard Jones,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Guru Guru,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bill Near,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
Funkadelic,
E-Dancer,
The American Breed,
Spandau Ballet,
Max Romeo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Adolescents,
UT,
Josef K,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
JFA,
The Vogues,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
Faust,
Masters at Work,
Average White Band,
Can,
Slick Rick,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Deakin,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
China Crisis,
Rekid,
The Pretty Things,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.