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 Syria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Man Eating Sloth to the crunk 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Seeds,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Wally Richardson,
Excepter,
The Remains,
The Angels of Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moleskins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Star Department,
Derrick May,
New York Dolls,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
The Cure,
Kas Product,
Danielle Patucci,
The Barracudas,
Icehouse,
The Happenings,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
Angry Samoans,
Faraquet,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
Second Layer,
The Five Americans,
Das Ding,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Goldenarms,
The New Christs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unwound,
Agent Orange,
Slave,
The Fortunes,
Index,
Minor Threat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Anthony Braxton,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
In Retrospect,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.