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 Romania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rap 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
New Age Steppers,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Happenings,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Albert Ayler,
Interpol,
Oneida,
Mad Mike,
Pantytec,
Massinfluence,
The Pretty Things,
Sun City Girls,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Rufus Thomas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nirvana,
Davy DMX,
The Beau Brummels,
Sister Nancy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Moon,
Neil Young,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
AZ,
Michelle Simonal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
Babytalk,
The Leaves,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
These Immortal Souls,
Pulsallama,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Warsaw,
Prince Buster,
Leonard Cohen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
H. Thieme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Trojans,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Green,
Qualms,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gichy Dan,
Ohio Players,
Kas Product,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.