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 Norway and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
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 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 Traffic Nightmare to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dave Gahan,
Cecil Taylor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Lydon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pussy Galore,
Michelle Simonal,
EPMD,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Residents,
Bronski Beat,
Amazonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
Barrington Levy,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
One Last Wish,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
Little Man,
Blossom Toes,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
Q and Not U,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Derrick Morgan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
Outsiders,
Tommy Roe,
Cluster,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Moss Icon,
Magma,
World's Most,
Slave,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Technova,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Television Personalities,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.