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 Malaysia 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Moby Grape to the jazz 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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Ultravox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythm & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Pagans,
Flash Fearless,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
In Retrospect,
Stiv Bators,
the Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
CMW,
Michelle Simonal,
Trumans Water,
Gabor Szabo,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare,
The Real Kids,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
Radiohead,
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Inner City,
The Selecter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Oblivians,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Unrelated Segments,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
The Dead C,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Faust,
Sällskapet,
Bad Manners,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dawn Penn,
Moebius,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.