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 Pakistan and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Blancmange,
Motorama,
Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Grauzone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Hoover,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Audionom,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Order,
Fear,
Wire,
Gabor Szabo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
Deepchord,
Dave Gahan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
Aswad,
The Kinks,
Minutemen,
Funky Four + One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Trumans Water,
the Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
The Neon Judgement,
Easy Going,
Cameo,
kango's stein massive,
Lalann,
Television,
Kerrie Biddell,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fugs,
Janne Schatter,
Unwound,
Patti Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
Harry Pussy,
Loose Ends,
Rites of Spring,
The Move,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Saints,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.