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 Kuwait and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Gichy Dan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 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 The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Dark Day,
The Evens,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fortunes,
Janne Schatter,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Womack,
Boredoms,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
Das Ding,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Bronski Beat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
Stockholm Monsters,
Technova,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
Kas Product,
Robert Hood,
Ituana,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
Grey Daturas,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Supertramp,
Trumans Water,
Thompson Twins,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now,
Sun City Girls,
Monks,
Idris Muhammad,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roger Hodgson,
Pagans,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.