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 Nauru and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Lalo Schifrin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grey Daturas,
Gabor Szabo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Visage,
New York Dolls,
Kayak,
Talk Talk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pretty Things,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Circle Jerks,
Nils Olav,
A Certain Ratio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Freddie Wadling,
The Busters,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Pantytec,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
Terry Callier,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Colin Newman,
Dual Sessions,
Saccharine Trust,
Desert Stars,
cv313,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Jacob Miller,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Wire,
The Evens,
ABBA,
Soulsonic Force,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
The Invisible,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.