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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Morten Harket to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eden Ahbez,
Brothers Johnson,
KRS-One,
Neil Young,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jandek,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
Pagans,
Iggy Pop,
Dennis Brown,
Malaria!,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
AZ,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
Panda Bear,
Max Romeo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Enemy,
Average White Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Lynne,
Silicon Teens,
Niagra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Camouflage,
The Neon Judgement,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
Gichy Dan,
Tubeway Army,
The Last Poets,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Boredoms,
John Foxx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Erasure,
Joy Division,
Arcadia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
Lalann,
Brick,
Reagan Youth,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.