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 Rwanda and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
John Cale,
the Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
DJ Sneak,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Pus,
48th St. Collective,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
the Sonics,
The Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare,
Crime,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
The Mojo Men,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
Stetsasonic,
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun City Girls,
The Victims,
The Count Five,
PIL,
Inner City,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Scion,
Robert Wyatt,
ABBA,
The Evens,
Drexciya,
Pantaleimon,
Freddie Wadling,
Marcia Griffiths,
Delta 5,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.