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 Africa 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Rhythm & Sound to the techno 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Index,
Davy DMX,
Funky Four + One,
Sound Behaviour,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
Skarface,
Popol Vuh,
The American Breed,
The Walker Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
Blossom Toes,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harmonia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reuben Wilson,
Dave Gahan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
Mark Hollis,
Cameo,
Y Pants,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Motorama,
The Toasters,
The Leaves,
Parry Music,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Lindisfarne,
Barrington Levy,
Fad Gadget,
Dual Sessions,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kurtis Blow,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Martian,
Lebanon Hanover,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Fear,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.