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 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
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 theremin 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül II,
Delta 5,
Cal Tjader,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Five Americans,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
Leonard Cohen,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wire,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Halsall,
Aural Exciters,
Peter & Gordon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Main Source,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
Kayak,
Archie Shepp,
Glenn Branca,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fuzztones,
Hardrive,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
Bobby Byrd,
Sister Nancy,
Hashim,
The Fall,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
Oneida,
The Neon Judgement,
The Black Dice,
The Barracudas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drexciya,
CMW,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
The Residents,
Anakelly,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alice Coltrane,
Adolescents,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.