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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Accadde A to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Siglo XX,
The Durutti Column,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Marine Girls,
Swans,
Eli Mardock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Pagans,
Flash Fearless,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
H. Thieme,
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Rufus Thomas,
Audionom,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
The Fall,
Pierre Henry,
UT,
Monks,
Black Pus,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Von Mondo,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
Brick,
Moss Icon,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
Rosa Yemen,
Sam Rivers,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Yaz,
L. Decosne,
D'Angelo,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
the Germs,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.