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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb 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 KRS-One 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Wyatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
F. McDonald,
David McCallum,
Fela Kuti,
Black Flag,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crash Course in Science,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Michelle Simonal,
Archie Shepp,
The Black Dice,
Soft Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Wolf Eyes,
Marine Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oblivians,
Cluster,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Zeros,
Gerry Rafferty,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Vainqueur,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hardrive,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
Jacob Miller,
Television Personalities,
The Doobie Brothers,
The United States of America,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
Visage,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.