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 Croatia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar 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 Metal Thangz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kool Moe Dee,
Albert Ayler,
Archie Shepp,
The Velvet Underground,
The Raincoats,
MDC,
The Real Kids,
Whodini,
X-102,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cure,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
Agent Orange,
the Sonics,
Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxy Music,
Matthew Bourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kayak,
Max Romeo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
ABC,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
KRS-One,
Sixth Finger,
Echospace,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
New Age Steppers,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.