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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grunge 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
The Pretty Things,
Shuggie Otis,
H. Thieme,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Camberwell Now,
Yazoo,
Grey Daturas,
UT,
Glambeats Corp.,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hoover,
Groovy Waters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fela Kuti,
DNA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
The Mummies,
Charles Mingus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Erykah Badu,
the Association,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
The Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chrome,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiohead,
Interpol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suburban Knight,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Prince Buster,
Lungfish,
E-Dancer,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slits,
Mission of Burma,
The Gun Club,
Sandy B,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Model 500,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.