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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Slits to the electroclash 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 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 chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Can,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-101,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
La Düsseldorf,
Thompson Twins,
Masters at Work,
Silicon Teens,
Zero Boys,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slackers,
Ultravox,
Juan Atkins,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet,
Darondo,
Symarip,
Amon Düül II,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rufus Thomas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Bauhaus,
Quadrant,
Camberwell Now,
Gastr Del Sol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
a-ha,
This Heat,
Anthony Braxton,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Malaria!,
Black Pus,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Organ,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sparks,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blancmange,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
The Pretty Things,
The Wake,
Section 25,
Ludus,
Jacques Brel,
Aaron Thompson,
The Barracudas,
Alice Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.