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 Chile and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Swans to the grunge 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Fear,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
Model 500,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul II Soul,
The Dead C,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
Grey Daturas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
Index,
Buzzcocks,
Nico,
Babytalk,
Bauhaus,
The Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barrington Levy,
Pantaleimon,
Carl Craig,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slick Rick,
The Fuzztones,
MC5,
The Fall,
The Neon Judgement,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
Procol Harum,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green,
Neil Young,
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.