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 India and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
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 theremin 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the funk 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Joyce Sims,
Terrestrial Tones,
Television,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
Sällskapet,
The Dead C,
Rekid,
Crime,
John Holt,
Country Teasers,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jawbox,
Erasure,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
H. Thieme,
Hasil Adkins,
Mission of Burma,
The Buckinghams,
Ronan,
Heaven 17,
The Fortunes,
Shoche,
DJ Sneak,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Remains,
Ken Boothe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Susan Cadogan,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
Y Pants,
Nas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pierre Henry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Thee Headcoats,
Shuggie Otis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lyres,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
DNA,
Inner City,
Ohio Players,
Bluetip,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
KRS-One,
Al Stewart,
Gang of Four,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monolake,
Toni Rubio,
Lindisfarne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.