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 Moldova and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 X-Ray Spex to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
In Retrospect,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Wasted Youth,
Sandy B,
Chris Corsano,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra,
Skarface,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Pere Ubu,
Monks,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slits,
Eric Dolphy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Au Pairs,
Jacques Brel,
Magazine,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
Sam Rivers,
Todd Terry,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Görl,
Delta 5,
Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fat Boys,
Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Subhumans,
Sound Behaviour,
Kenny Larkin,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The J.B.'s,
Neil Young,
Henry Cow,
10cc,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Iggy Pop,
Bob Dylan,
Lyres,
B.T. Express,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.