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 Swaziland 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Harpers Bizarre to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stetsasonic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
Guru Guru,
Moby Grape,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blossom Toes,
Aswad,
The Stooges,
The Mojo Men,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Black Dice,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lakeside,
Banda Bassotti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jawbox,
The Selecter,
The Move,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
Liliput,
Dark Day,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Sneak,
Parry Music,
Cymande,
the Normal,
Yazoo,
One Last Wish,
The Seeds,
Carl Craig,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
Swans,
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
The Velvet Underground,
Nas,
The J.B.'s,
FM Einheit,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.