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 Thailand and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 ABC to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Bill Wells,
Hasil Adkins,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Faust,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
The Angels of Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sixth Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Divine Comedy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Liliput,
Nils Olav,
The Black Dice,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Sheep,
The Golliwogs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxette,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Victims,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
World's Most,
Skaos,
Radiohead,
Cal Tjader,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
Erasure,
Alton Ellis,
Delta 5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barrington Levy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
Wings,
Black Bananas,
Robert Wyatt,
Severed Heads,
Rotary Connection,
Sugar Minott,
Bootsy Collins,
the Germs,
Bad Manners,
Faraquet,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.