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 Turkmenistan and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joe Finger to the crunk 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Bronski Beat,
The Searchers,
Y Pants,
Skaos,
Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
Erykah Badu,
Robert Wyatt,
Supertramp,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Q and Not U,
Liliput,
Terry Callier,
UT,
Schoolly D,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
the Association,
Angry Samoans,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Fluxion,
Hashim,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minny Pops,
Brand Nubian,
The Cure,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Flipper,
Faraquet,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Newcleus,
Max Romeo,
Television,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maleditus Sound,
The Techniques,
the Normal,
Albert Ayler,
LL Cool J,
Steve Hackett,
Boredoms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.