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 South Sudan and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Agent Orange to the grunge 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ohio Players,
Scrapy,
Iggy Pop,
Bronski Beat,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
EPMD,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry's Kids,
Trumans Water,
This Heat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABC,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pierre Henry,
Godley & Creme,
Brass Construction,
Icehouse,
Duran Duran,
Loose Ends,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Divine Comedy,
Simply Red,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Von Mondo,
Wally Richardson,
Hasil Adkins,
The United States of America,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
Livin' Joy,
Clear Light,
The Toasters,
Pussy Galore,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mr. Review,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Green,
Subhumans,
Little Man,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aloha Tigers,
The Leaves,
Quadrant,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Infiniti,
Yusef Lateef,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.