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 Grenada and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Parry Music,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alton Ellis,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lower 48,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
Fugazi,
Bobby Womack,
Minnie Riperton,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wire,
Sarah Menescal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Associates,
These Immortal Souls,
Juan Atkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Agent Orange,
The Mummies,
Negative Approach,
Nirvana,
Scientists,
Nas,
David McCallum,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
Anthony Braxton,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.