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 Costa Rica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Bauhaus,
The Leaves,
Parry Music,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Make Up,
Brick,
Bill Wells,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Delta 5,
Lower 48,
The Mojo Men,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
Vainqueur,
The Fugs,
Joe Finger,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Lindisfarne,
Pierre Henry,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
The Toasters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q and Not U,
Alton Ellis,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
The Tremeloes,
Scion,
Cheater Slicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Infiniti,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
Aswad,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crash Course in Science,
Rotary Connection,
Aaron Thompson,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.