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 Grenada and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
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 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 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 Electric Prunes 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Anthony Braxton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jandek,
Avey Tare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Max Romeo,
John Foxx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sarah Menescal,
Royal Trux,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
The Neon Judgement,
Deakin,
UT,
Unrelated Segments,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
MC5,
Cal Tjader,
Ponytail,
Wings,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lyres,
Michelle Simonal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hot Snakes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
Joey Negro,
Yellowson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Lydon,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Near,
Brothers Johnson,
Chris & Cosey,
Quadrant,
New Order,
Symarip,
Soul Sonic Force,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Slits,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.