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 Syria and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Albert Ayler to the punk 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Groovy Waters,
a-ha,
Scientists,
John Holt,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lungfish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare,
EPMD,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Enemy,
Livin' Joy,
Dead Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
Barbara Tucker,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Echospace,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
Quantec,
Parry Music,
Dennis Brown,
Leonard Cohen,
Funky Four + One,
Excepter,
Index,
Clear Light,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Icehouse,
Wire,
D'Angelo,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Y Pants,
Tim Buckley,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
The Human League,
B.T. Express,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rosa Yemen,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.