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 Chad and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Swell Maps to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Camberwell Now,
Albert Ayler,
Surgeon,
Steve Hackett,
FM Einheit,
Tres Demented,
Camouflage,
Silicon Teens,
Eve St. Jones,
Scan 7,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Smog,
Quando Quango,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rod Modell,
Pylon,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Negative Approach,
Lower 48,
Main Source,
Unwound,
Qualms,
Maleditus Sound,
Swans,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
The Smoke,
Radio Birdman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boz Scaggs,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Aswad,
Danielle Patucci,
Sparks,
Mantronix,
The Slackers,
Zapp,
Marvin Gaye,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
Icehouse,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dead C,
La Düsseldorf,
Minny Pops,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Basic Channel,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.