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 Cyprus and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Heaven 17 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Index,
Black Moon,
Yellowson,
The Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Barbara Tucker,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yusef Lateef,
Junior Murvin,
Gichy Dan,
Man Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
Mr. Review,
Michelle Simonal,
The Motions,
kango's stein massive,
The Smiths,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Skaos,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Organ,
the Swans,
The Move,
The Real Kids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Henry Cow,
Severed Heads,
Fear,
Peter & Gordon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
Minutemen,
Interpol,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Seeds,
Porter Ricks,
Nik Kershaw,
Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
The Martian,
Roxy Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Cymande,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Howard Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
John Holt,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.