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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trumans Water to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Selecter,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Bobby Womack,
Amon Düül II,
Interpol,
Mary Jane Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kas Product,
Average White Band,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
The Martian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Modern Lovers,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Terry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
China Crisis,
Loose Ends,
Dual Sessions,
One Last Wish,
Rosa Yemen,
Hardrive,
Goldenarms,
Sixth Finger,
The Buckinghams,
Con Funk Shun,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Zero Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Infiniti,
Flash Fearless,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
Aaron Thompson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glenn Branca,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.