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 Mauritania 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Misunderstood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chris Corsano,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Magma,
Pagans,
Deakin,
The Walker Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Sight & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Thee Headcoats,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
The American Breed,
Junior Murvin,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Interpol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Monks,
Harry Pussy,
a-ha,
Erykah Badu,
The Grass Roots,
Shoche,
D'Angelo,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Oneida,
Procol Harum,
The Evens,
The Toasters,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fall,
Intrusion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
B.T. Express,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eurythmics,
The Gun Club,
Adolescents,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.