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 South Sudan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Harry Pussy to the rock 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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aloha Tigers,
Guru Guru,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
Cal Tjader,
Peter & Gordon,
Blossom Toes,
Radiohead,
The Modern Lovers,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Index,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sandy B,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
Wire,
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
Cabaret Voltaire,
T. Rex,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacob Miller,
Roxy Music,
The Fall,
Joe Finger,
Funkadelic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fad Gadget,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül II,
The Barracudas,
Andrew Hill,
The Angels of Light,
Yellowson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Accadde A,
The Kinks,
Unwound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.