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 Hungary and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
Arab on Radar,
Theoretical Girls,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
The Victims,
the Germs,
Warren Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sixth Finger,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Barbara Tucker,
Harry Pussy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Camberwell Now,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Au Pairs,
The Raincoats,
Sister Nancy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pylon,
Main Source,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fall,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
World's Most,
Kayak,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Swans,
The Angels of Light,
Don Cherry,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Laurel Aitken,
Average White Band,
June of 44,
T.S.O.L.,
Amon Düül II,
Anakelly,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Procol Harum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.