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 Kazakhstan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 The Martian to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
The Fugs,
Gichy Dan,
June of 44,
Byron Stingily,
Index,
The Seeds,
The Gap Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Spandau Ballet,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra,
Joyce Sims,
The Pop Group,
Chris Corsano,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
Altered Images,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick Morgan,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
Audionom,
Deakin,
Nick Fraelich,
Cameo,
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Shoche,
Bob Dylan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Depeche Mode,
Mantronix,
Amon Düül,
Chrome,
Dave Gahan,
Crash Course in Science,
KRS-One,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Franke,
The Cramps,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joensuu 1685,
Anakelly,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.