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 Cape Verde and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mumbai and Cairo.
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 guitar 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 K-Klass 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
Sarah Menescal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Glenn Branca,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Wyatt,
Hot Snakes,
Aural Exciters,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
Goldenarms,
Barclay James Harvest,
Adolescents,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Warren Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Sex Pistols,
La Düsseldorf,
The Invisible,
OOIOO,
The Neon Judgement,
The Wake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
KRS-One,
Mantronix,
Bill Near,
The Count Five,
Organ,
Magma,
Brass Construction,
Rekid,
Peter and Kerry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Halsall,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Bourne,
K-Klass,
Boredoms,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Slick Rick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.