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 Bahamas and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gun Club to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Visage,
The Misunderstood,
Oneida,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boredoms,
Ossler,
Chrome,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skarface,
Bizarre Inc.,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sister Nancy,
The Seeds,
OOIOO,
Grey Daturas,
Camberwell Now,
Q and Not U,
Model 500,
Maurizio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Donald Byrd,
Bush Tetras,
Eurythmics,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alice Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
kango's stein massive,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Subhumans,
Gichy Dan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Easy Going,
Minnie Riperton,
Danielle Patucci,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.