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 Barbados and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bootsy Collins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warsaw,
Fat Boys,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Vladislav Delay,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Red Krayola,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
World's Most,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Cluster,
Slick Rick,
Silicon Teens,
The Litter,
Davy DMX,
La Düsseldorf,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sällskapet,
Easy Going,
Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The J.B.'s,
Eden Ahbez,
L. Decosne,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
Dennis Brown,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
The Motions,
The Human League,
The Star Department,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Stiv Bators,
Swans,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.