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 Bhutan and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fluxion to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
John Lydon,
Tim Buckley,
Radio Birdman,
The Happenings,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
Malaria!,
A Certain Ratio,
Minutemen,
The Star Department,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-102,
Ludus,
Nirvana,
Altered Images,
The Golliwogs,
Jandek,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funky Four + One,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
Juan Atkins,
Bauhaus,
Swans,
Black Pus,
Trumans Water,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
kango's stein massive,
Al Stewart,
Sarah Menescal,
Dual Sessions,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
Icehouse,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Drive Like Jehu,
Josef K,
Infiniti,
Rapeman,
Banda Bassotti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Anthony Braxton,
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.