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 Iraq and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Surgeon to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez 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?
The Divine Comedy,
Absolute Body Control,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
cv313,
Bang On A Can,
Mars,
The Litter,
Delta 5,
Crash Course in Science,
Hashim,
The Fugs,
The Smiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pierre Henry,
Soulsonic Force,
Toni Rubio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül II,
Spandau Ballet,
Cybotron,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
World's Most,
Quantec,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Anakelly,
PIL,
Byron Stingily,
John Coltrane,
Bush Tetras,
the Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Massinfluence,
Grey Daturas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dead C,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
Pulsallama,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
The Human League,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Modern Lovers,
John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.