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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
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 guitar 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 PIL to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Slick Rick,
The J.B.'s,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
Magma,
Crispy Ambulance,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Qualms,
The Vogues,
The Martian,
Nirvana,
Josef K,
Piero Umiliani,
Tubeway Army,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marine Girls,
Liliput,
Smog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
Silicon Teens,
The Fortunes,
Moss Icon,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Amazonics,
Jandek,
the Slits,
The Move,
Pylon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
World's Most,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Andrew Hill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang of Four,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Parry Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
The Gun Club,
Spoonie Gee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Loose Ends,
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.