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 Mauritius and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Thee Headcoats to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
New Order,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
Intrusion,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
Stiv Bators,
Vladislav Delay,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Outsiders,
Pole,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fat Boys,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Prince Buster,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David McCallum,
The Smoke,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Near,
Warren Ellis,
Rotary Connection,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
Aaron Thompson,
Whodini,
Swans,
Unwound,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.