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 Cambodia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
Absolute Body Control,
Charles Mingus,
New York Dolls,
Skaos,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Delta 5,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
Harry Pussy,
Easy Going,
Sonny Sharrock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dennis Brown,
EPMD,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Stooges,
R.M.O.,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Victims,
the Normal,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed,
Pantaleimon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Spandau Ballet,
Dark Day,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Saccharine Trust,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Pus,
MC5,
X-102,
Todd Terry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grauzone,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.