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 Syria and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hot Snakes to the grime 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Camberwell Now,
The Walker Brothers,
Scion,
Skriet,
Sugar Minott,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Henry Cow,
Fad Gadget,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Zapp,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Archie Shepp,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
Neu!,
The United States of America,
Average White Band,
Tubeway Army,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Smog,
Bill Wells,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
Shoche,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
10cc,
Fear,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cecil Taylor,
Scrapy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.