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 Iceland and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Lou Reed 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 Amon Düül to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
Black Flag,
Nico,
Organ,
AZ,
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Simply Red,
Nils Olav,
Delta 5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moby Grape,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül,
The Wake,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Country Teasers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Basic Channel,
Grauzone,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Busters,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
Ohio Players,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hardrive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Minutemen,
Desert Stars,
Lakeside,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
Motorama,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
Danielle Patucci,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.