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 Australia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Pagans,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
the Human League,
Suicide,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
David Bowie,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Amazonics,
the Swans,
Jeff Mills,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
The Fugs,
Bill Wells,
Black Bananas,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Underground Resistance,
Echospace,
Grauzone,
kango's stein massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lyres,
The Cure,
Darondo,
Main Source,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
Q and Not U,
The Seeds,
Funkadelic,
Arab on Radar,
Agent Orange,
Robert Hood,
The Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Chris & Cosey,
Mad Mike,
Aaron Thompson,
Erasure,
Funky Four + One,
Khruangbin,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
The Index,
Panda Bear,
Rakim,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.