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 Cuba and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
Second Layer,
K-Klass,
Franke,
Pylon,
The Buckinghams,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
The American Breed,
Todd Terry,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Dennis Brown,
Quantec,
the Soft Cell,
The Associates,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slick Rick,
Minor Threat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Urselle,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Laurel Aitken,
The Misunderstood,
Little Man,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Vogues,
Derrick Morgan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
Slave,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Moon,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.