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 Dominica and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 June Days to the grunge 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Robert Hood,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Near,
Wally Richardson,
Section 25,
Fluxion,
Judy Mowatt,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Camberwell Now,
DNA,
The Gap Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Amazonics,
John Cale,
Kevin Saunderson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
EPMD,
Aswad,
Alice Coltrane,
Swell Maps,
Lakeside,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Tom Boy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Radio Birdman,
Magma,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soulsonic Force,
David Axelrod,
Brick,
Intrusion,
Tres Demented,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The New Christs,
Heaven 17,
Deepchord,
Delta 5,
The Star Department,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wasted Youth,
Colin Newman,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Morten Harket,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hasil Adkins,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
Livin' Joy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.