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 Argentina and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Knickerbockers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Godley & Creme,
The Grass Roots,
Dead Boys,
Funkadelic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
Zapp,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skaos,
Marvin Gaye,
Swans,
The Residents,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Severed Heads,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Dark Day,
New Age Steppers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mojo Men,
The Saints,
Matthew Halsall,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sight & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Japan,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
Audionom,
10cc,
The Names,
The J.B.'s,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
Saccharine Trust,
Monolake,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.