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 Singapore and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gories,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
Cheater Slicks,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
Morten Harket,
Essential Logic,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mojo Men,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Mark Hollis,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Toasters,
The Leaves,
The Mummies,
Main Source,
Chrome,
Q65,
World's Most,
Wings,
Lucky Dragons,
Television,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun City Girls,
Inner City,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ronan,
Howard Jones,
Funky Four + One,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moss Icon,
Scion,
Accadde A,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quantec,
Thee Headcoats,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
The Trojans,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells,
L. Decosne,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
John Lydon,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.