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 Guyana and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marvin Gaye to the jazz 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants 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?
Wire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crime,
Schoolly D,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Barry Ungar,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
La Düsseldorf,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
The Misunderstood,
Little Man,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pantytec,
Soul Sonic Force,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Eli Mardock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
This Heat,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
Lungfish,
Ossler,
Sparks,
Rod Modell,
John Foxx,
PIL,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Grey Daturas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Nas,
Kurtis Blow,
Adolescents,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monolake,
Aswad,
Stiv Bators,
Joyce Sims,
Aloha Tigers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Black Sheep,
Q65,
Boogie Down Productions,
Severed Heads,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.