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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Barry Ungar,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thee Headcoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kurtis Blow,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tom Boy,
The Trojans,
Ultravox,
Index,
David Axelrod,
Minny Pops,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jandek,
Gichy Dan,
Scrapy,
Pagans,
Model 500,
The Modern Lovers,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Near,
Delta 5,
PIL,
The Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
The Index,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Connie Case,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Moon,
The Monochrome Set,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Metal Thangz,
The Cramps,
Television Personalities,
Michelle Simonal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Electric Prunes,
Roger Hodgson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Scientists,
The Smiths,
the Sonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Ornette Coleman,
the Bar-Kays,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.