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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Bologna and Paris.
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 marimba 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 Pagans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Make Up,
The Gories,
Agitation Free,
Skriet,
Los Fastidios,
Amazonics,
Quadrant,
Graham Central Station,
Index,
Lower 48,
Sugar Minott,
Quantec,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
Harry Pussy,
Bang On A Can,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Cell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
Suburban Knight,
Pantytec,
H. Thieme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
ABBA,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Derrick May,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Near,
Groovy Waters,
Vainqueur,
Sight & Sound,
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
Danielle Patucci,
Nico,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiohead,
Ronnie Foster,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.