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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Sparks to the electroclash 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Altered Images,
Trumans Water,
Television,
The Slackers,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Starr,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David Bowie,
Ten City,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
The Names,
The Sound,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
Chris Corsano,
Ronnie Foster,
MDC,
Kerri Chandler,
the Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
MC5,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
Organ,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
The Count Five,
Sex Pistols,
Fela Kuti,
New Age Steppers,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
One Last Wish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Niagra,
Massinfluence,
New Order,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dave Clark Five,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rod Modell,
Cheater Slicks,
The Searchers,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Unwound,
Colin Newman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Young Marble Giants,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.