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 Iraq and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sonny Sharrock to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nas,
Pylon,
Rapeman,
The Searchers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sugar Minott,
Mars,
FM Einheit,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Mills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Brass Construction,
Blancmange,
Josef K,
Kurtis Blow,
KRS-One,
A Certain Ratio,
Con Funk Shun,
June of 44,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angry Samoans,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Circle Jerks,
Q and Not U,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Evens,
Gong,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Hardrive,
Gang Starr,
The Five Americans,
UT,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
Echospace,
Todd Rundgren,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Wake,
Hoover,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.