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 Georgia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Pagans,
Connie Case,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Eric Copeland,
Althea and Donna,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Laurel Aitken,
Khruangbin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
Moby Grape,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Barracudas,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra,
The Techniques,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sparks,
Janne Schatter,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
Crash Course in Science,
Cluster,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
Joyce Sims,
David Bowie,
Neu!,
DNA,
Absolute Body Control,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerri Chandler,
Eli Mardock,
The Five Americans,
Archie Shepp,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
The Buckinghams,
Max Romeo,
The Grass Roots,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacob Miller,
Chrome,
PIL,
The Last Poets,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mojo Men,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Stooges,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
Japan,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.