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 Grenada and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
UT,
Ituana,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
Eddi Front,
Danielle Patucci,
Zero Boys,
Fear,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Lynne,
Interpol,
The Toasters,
Grey Daturas,
Eric Dolphy,
Boredoms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Wake,
Sällskapet,
the Normal,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Byrd,
Joe Smooth,
Index,
Intrusion,
Ten City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
Silicon Teens,
Qualms,
Crash Course in Science,
L. Decosne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shoche,
Lou Christie,
Marine Girls,
Inner City,
Soul II Soul,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.