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 Palau and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the jazz 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rod Modell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aloha Tigers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Skatalites,
Oneida,
Lalann,
EPMD,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eddi Front,
The Gun Club,
The Litter,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Style,
Michelle Simonal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-102,
Sarah Menescal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moebius,
Laurel Aitken,
Drexciya,
Kurtis Blow,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ten City,
The Moleskins,
Crooked Eye,
The Slits,
This Heat,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Warren Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Minny Pops,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Martian,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boz Scaggs,
Brick,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
Pantytec,
The Doors,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.