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 Togo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves 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?
Malaria!,
CMW,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Deakin,
Niagra,
The Angels of Light,
Q and Not U,
the Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sällskapet,
New York Dolls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
The Velvet Underground,
Patti Smith,
Fad Gadget,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Underground Resistance,
Sonic Youth,
Moebius,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rekid,
The Black Dice,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sight & Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Fela Kuti,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
X-Ray Spex,
Pylon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiohead,
Robert Hood,
Mandrill,
Animal Collective,
Gang Green,
Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Moss Icon,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.