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 Uruguay and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron 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 Khruangbin to the techno 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arab on Radar,
Das Ding,
Make Up,
Marvin Gaye,
The Busters,
Quantec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rekid,
Radiohead,
the Germs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slick Rick,
Soul II Soul,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Knickerbockers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Don Cherry,
Funkadelic,
The Beau Brummels,
Pierre Henry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stereo Dub,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Womack,
Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Whodini,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dave Gahan,
The Sonics,
CMW,
Bauhaus,
John Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Dorothy Ashby,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Negative Approach,
James White and The Blacks,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter,
Drexciya,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Altered Images,
The Shadows of Knight,
Patti Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Near,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.