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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Aural Exciters to the punk 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
Guru Guru,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantytec,
The Last Poets,
Wasted Youth,
The Five Americans,
Con Funk Shun,
Silicon Teens,
Jacques Brel,
Surgeon,
The Smiths,
The Neon Judgement,
T.S.O.L.,
the Slits,
Black Bananas,
Oblivians,
The Fugs,
Black Pus,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Swans,
E-Dancer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Darondo,
Scientists,
Charles Mingus,
Leonard Cohen,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Nirvana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Piero Umiliani,
Tubeway Army,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
Sun Ra,
Wire,
FM Einheit,
The Star Department,
The Birthday Party,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radio Birdman,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Skaos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kayak,
UT,
Barry Ungar,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.