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 Korea South and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
The Smoke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Joensuu 1685,
Spandau Ballet,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
World's Most,
Nico,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Television,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Al Stewart,
Marmalade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Black Dice,
Television Personalities,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Move,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Clarke,
Radio Birdman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joyce Sims,
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
The Offenders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lucky Dragons,
One Last Wish,
Connie Case,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fall,
The Raincoats,
The Index,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Flash Fearless,
AZ,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.