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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids 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?
the Germs,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
The Velvet Underground,
The Detroit Cobras,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
Albert Ayler,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Association,
Arab on Radar,
Easy Going,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nils Olav,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
Thee Headcoats,
Royal Trux,
Angry Samoans,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T.S.O.L.,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
Monks,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Yellowson,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers,
Alton Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
Faust,
One Last Wish,
Bob Dylan,
Don Cherry,
Minutemen,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Negative Approach,
Scion,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
Sam Rivers,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Colin Newman,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.