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 Chad and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Make Up to the techno 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Model 500,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dave Gahan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun City Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Royal Trux,
Altered Images,
Skarface,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Infiniti,
Black Pus,
Kaleidoscope,
the Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
cv313,
Nico,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rufus Thomas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
Donny Hathaway,
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
LL Cool J,
Young Marble Giants,
Mr. Review,
Fad Gadget,
Iggy Pop,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scrapy,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fugs,
Television,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ohio Players,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
Rod Modell,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.