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 Angola and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Barry Ungar to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
John Holt,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
The Knickerbockers,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Five Americans,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
One Last Wish,
ABC,
Don Cherry,
Dennis Brown,
The Martian,
The Slits,
Deepchord,
Sight & Sound,
The Dead C,
ABBA,
Slave,
Q and Not U,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Leaves,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
Urselle,
Half Japanese,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Ponytail,
Ultimate Spinach,
Franke,
Inner City,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Move,
Aswad,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.