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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sisters of Mercy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Saccharine Trust,
Camouflage,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rosa Yemen,
Clear Light,
Cybotron,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Tres Demented,
Flipper,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacob Miller,
X-102,
The Offenders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Byrd,
Scan 7,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Panda Bear,
The Music Machine,
The Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens,
The Fugs,
Chris Corsano,
The Five Americans,
Yaz,
June of 44,
Pulsallama,
Fugazi,
The Standells,
Isaac Hayes,
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
Smog,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple,
Zapp,
New Age Steppers,
Scientists,
The Motions,
Arab on Radar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Connie Case,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Chrome,
Groovy Waters,
Letta Mbulu,
David McCallum,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.