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 Germany and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sonic Youth to the grunge 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Black Bananas,
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Excepter,
48th St. Collective,
Cameo,
Zapp,
Simply Red,
Blossom Toes,
David Axelrod,
Max Romeo,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Zeros,
Surgeon,
Ornette Coleman,
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stetsasonic,
Sixth Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fire Engines,
Slave,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Index,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Scan 7,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Ice-T,
Jacques Brel,
The Barracudas,
R.M.O.,
Main Source,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
KRS-One,
Funkadelic,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun City Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Walker Brothers,
Jawbox,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.