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 Monaco and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Theoretical Girls,
Yellowson,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
Monks,
Bush Tetras,
The Offenders,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Order,
EPMD,
Blossom Toes,
Carl Craig,
Mandrill,
Cecil Taylor,
Archie Shepp,
Youth Brigade,
The Saints,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hot Snakes,
Hoover,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Deakin,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Altered Images,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Outsiders,
Byron Stingily,
Susan Cadogan,
Peter and Kerry,
The Victims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Wake,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.