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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Smog to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Hood,
The Gories,
Amon Düül,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultravox,
The Mojo Men,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dual Sessions,
Reagan Youth,
Fluxion,
Donny Hathaway,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Trojans,
Kaleidoscope,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
MDC,
Supertramp,
Marmalade,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry's Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Nirvana,
Bush Tetras,
KRS-One,
Susan Cadogan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blancmange,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aswad,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
David Axelrod,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ponytail,
Chris Corsano,
Janne Schatter,
Moebius,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.