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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cowsills to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
John Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Accadde A,
KRS-One,
Fluxion,
Altered Images,
Unwound,
Nils Olav,
Clear Light,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantytec,
Theoretical Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
The Vogues,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pagans,
Public Enemy,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Basic Channel,
Donald Byrd,
This Heat,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Hood,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Oblivians,
Funkadelic,
Quando Quango,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Davy DMX,
MDC,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxy Music,
The Mojo Men,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Outsiders,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Moon,
Darondo,
Pussy Galore,
Scan 7,
Dual Sessions,
The Offenders,
Eve St. Jones,
The Martian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.