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 Senegal and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Roxy Music to the funk 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Todd Terry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Darondo,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Holt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
Ludus,
Silicon Teens,
CMW,
Interpol,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
The Busters,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Copeland,
The Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Swans,
The Barracudas,
Barrington Levy,
Carl Craig,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Visage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
The Dave Clark Five,
The American Breed,
Al Stewart,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.