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 Nauru and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Zero Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Severed Heads,
Ohio Players,
Eric Copeland,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
The New Christs,
The Motions,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Womack,
Q65,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monks,
Colin Newman,
Make Up,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
Marmalade,
Gang Green,
Ten City,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Quantec,
U.S. Maple,
Mark Hollis,
Eurythmics,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barry Ungar,
The Offenders,
John Foxx,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
Sugar Minott,
The Five Americans,
Blake Baxter,
The Sound,
Harmonia,
The Dave Clark Five,
Delta 5,
Johnny Clarke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jandek,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.