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 Togo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Panda Bear to the crunk 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Technova,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oneida,
JFA,
E-Dancer,
The Neon Judgement,
Adolescents,
Letta Mbulu,
Mad Mike,
The Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxette,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
Rufus Thomas,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T.S.O.L.,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
LL Cool J,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül,
The Associates,
Scan 7,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
Shoche,
the Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Minor Threat,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Mills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tomorrow,
Visage,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
The Slackers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
World's Most,
Reagan Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
Au Pairs,
A Certain Ratio,
Erykah Badu,
cv313,
The United States of America,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Skaos,
Warren Ellis,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.