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 Tunisia and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Patti Smith,
Warsaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radiohead,
Fear,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
Skriet,
Ultravox,
Pagans,
Joyce Sims,
Monolake,
Sam Rivers,
Pantaleimon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Subhumans,
The Pop Group,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pulsallama,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Blancmange,
Chrome,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
Godley & Creme,
the Swans,
The Index,
Section 25,
Fugazi,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sugar Minott,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonic Youth,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Hood,
Altered Images,
Stetsasonic,
Faraquet,
The Fugs,
The Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Kas Product,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
Faust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
China Crisis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Christie,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Gong,
Dual Sessions,
Roxette,
Arab on Radar,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.