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 Albania and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
Bob Dylan,
U.S. Maple,
The Smoke,
Eli Mardock,
Theoretical Girls,
Japan,
Con Funk Shun,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Dennis Brown,
the Normal,
Television Personalities,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
China Crisis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Soft Cell,
Nirvana,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Barbara Tucker,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
D'Angelo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neu!,
Isaac Hayes,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Sister Nancy,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Warsaw,
Bill Near,
Barry Ungar,
Nas,
The Invisible,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kurtis Blow,
Yaz,
Icehouse,
Josef K,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
Kayak,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.