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 Syria and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar 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 PIL to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
The Skatalites,
Duran Duran,
Tommy Roe,
Skarface,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
Wally Richardson,
The Cowsills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Archie Shepp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacques Brel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monks,
Wire,
The Invisible,
Pylon,
Alton Ellis,
Parry Music,
Dual Sessions,
Isaac Hayes,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warsaw,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eurythmics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Star Department,
China Crisis,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Japan,
The Blues Magoos,
Neu!,
Bush Tetras,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Starr,
Interpol,
DNA,
Neil Young,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.