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 Nigeria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dave Gahan to the grunge 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Clear Light,
Lindisfarne,
Unrelated Segments,
Vainqueur,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra,
The Move,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Tremeloes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roxy Music,
The Five Americans,
Mr. Review,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Howard Jones,
Cluster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
La Düsseldorf,
Q and Not U,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Aswad,
Negative Approach,
Todd Terry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric B and Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Faust,
Hashim,
Ralphi Rosario,
Maleditus Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Zeros,
Rapeman,
The Sound,
The Cramps,
Kas Product,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Dead Boys,
June of 44,
Wings,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Christie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Slits,
The Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.