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 United Kingdom and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Desert Stars to the crunk 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacob Miller,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
The Skatalites,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donald Byrd,
Country Joe & The Fish,
E-Dancer,
Supertramp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
June Days,
Delta 5,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
Piero Umiliani,
Anthony Braxton,
Suicide,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalann,
Barry Ungar,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
Jandek,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rotary Connection,
Fugazi,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The United States of America,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cure,
Sparks,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra,
UT,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
L. Decosne,
Livin' Joy,
Eurythmics,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.