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 Peru and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Don Cherry to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed,
The Motions,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang On A Can,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
Joensuu 1685,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Leonard Cohen,
Albert Ayler,
Procol Harum,
Television Personalities,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hoover,
Basic Channel,
Bobby Sherman,
Danielle Patucci,
Neu!,
La Düsseldorf,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
Ken Boothe,
Rod Modell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kevin Saunderson,
MC5,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Green,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
Iggy Pop,
Slick Rick,
Fugazi,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
The Invisible,
Buzzcocks,
Royal Trux,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
Howard Jones,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barbara Tucker,
Absolute Body Control,
Cluster,
The Fuzztones,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.