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 Ecuador and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Section 25 to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Organ,
Arab on Radar,
Godley & Creme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-102,
Television,
James White and The Blacks,
The Detroit Cobras,
E-Dancer,
The Music Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Moss Icon,
Don Cherry,
Bob Dylan,
Ponytail,
Khruangbin,
The Star Department,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Sällskapet,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minutemen,
Kenny Larkin,
David Axelrod,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
Radio Birdman,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pylon,
Slick Rick,
The Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unwound,
Dawn Penn,
Rosa Yemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter and Kerry,
Y Pants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultra Naté,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
The Barracudas,
Moebius,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.