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 Manila.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
UT,
Boredoms,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gastr Del Sol,
MC5,
Loose Ends,
The Monochrome Set,
Theoretical Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Green,
Terry Callier,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABC,
8 Eyed Spy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
Clear Light,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronan,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
New Age Steppers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ornette Coleman,
The American Breed,
Kenny Larkin,
Desert Stars,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Circle Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Raincoats,
The Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
The Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
The Music Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Q65,
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.