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 United Kingdom and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boz Scaggs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Theoretical Girls,
Boredoms,
X-102,
Chris Corsano,
The Grass Roots,
Maurizio,
Parry Music,
The Happenings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Adolescents,
The Misunderstood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tears for Fears,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mummies,
Das Ding,
Camouflage,
Connie Case,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
Moss Icon,
Liliput,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
New Order,
A Certain Ratio,
The Slackers,
Joe Smooth,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
Chrome,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Arab on Radar,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalann,
The American Breed,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hoover,
Leonard Cohen,
Newcleus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Max Romeo,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.