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 Lithuania and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster to the grunge 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Godley & Creme,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerri Chandler,
Porter Ricks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
The Human League,
Organ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mo-Dettes,
Bad Manners,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
PIL,
ABC,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Suicide,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fuzztones,
The Wake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Hardrive,
Blancmange,
Metal Thangz,
Sugar Minott,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
Iggy Pop,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Whodini,
Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Das Ding,
X-101,
Pole,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
EPMD,
Boredoms,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.