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 Samoa and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Saccharine Trust to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Ken Boothe,
Alphaville,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
Freddie Wadling,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mars,
Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Skaos,
the Slits,
Deakin,
The Neon Judgement,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
The Offenders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
The United States of America,
Silicon Teens,
Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Albert Ayler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quadrant,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
The Misunderstood,
Slick Rick,
Donny Hathaway,
Piero Umiliani,
Pylon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
Dual Sessions,
Anthony Braxton,
London Community Gospel Choir,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crime,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fluxion,
The Golliwogs,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.