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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
The Offenders,
James White and The Blacks,
Aaron Thompson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stetsasonic,
Neil Young,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
MDC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oneida,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool Moe Dee,
June of 44,
Al Stewart,
Eric Copeland,
The Monks,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
Pussy Galore,
Quantec,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Essential Logic,
Anakelly,
Darondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Siglo XX,
The Smiths,
Blake Baxter,
Nirvana,
Yazoo,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
Maurizio,
Pere Ubu,
Blancmange,
Funky Four + One,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
The Moleskins,
Kerrie Biddell,
R.M.O.,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
The American Breed,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.