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 Swaziland and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Janne Schatter to the disco 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
kango's stein massive,
The Monks,
Malaria!,
The Raincoats,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Toni Rubio,
UT,
Panda Bear,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Andrew Hill,
Schoolly D,
Quando Quango,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nick Fraelich,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
The Knickerbockers,
Grauzone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Make Up,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hot Snakes,
These Immortal Souls,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
E-Dancer,
Ludus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harmonia,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Stooges,
H. Thieme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pantaleimon,
Television Personalities,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
The Cure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
Babytalk,
Robert Wyatt,
Gong,
Pierre Henry,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.