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 Zambia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Mills,
Piero Umiliani,
Deakin,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
Eddi Front,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
The Five Americans,
Circle Jerks,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Robert Wyatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Quadrant,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
Section 25,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Pus,
Motorama,
John Coltrane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Slick Rick,
The Walker Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DJ Style,
The Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brass Construction,
Roxette,
The Fugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop,
the Slits,
Hardrive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Parry Music,
Funky Four + One,
Pulsallama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Kas Product,
the Normal,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
Pylon,
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.