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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tres Demented to the dance 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Stereo Dub,
The Pop Group,
Altered Images,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
Sugar Minott,
Neil Young,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Nick Fraelich,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Goldenarms,
Eric Dolphy,
Talk Talk,
Todd Terry,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
EPMD,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Parrish,
Henry Cow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Buckinghams,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rekid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Ten City,
Gang of Four,
Pulsallama,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barry Ungar,
Essential Logic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
B.T. Express,
Aswad,
Sällskapet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.