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 United Kingdom and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 The Durutti Column to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Arcadia,
Shoche,
Chris & Cosey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stiv Bators,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
The Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Rundgren,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Order,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
The Zeros,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
Guru Guru,
Ralphi Rosario,
Technova,
Throbbing Gristle,
Accadde A,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed,
Q65,
Sparks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Byron Stingily,
Brass Construction,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
The Detroit Cobras,
Funky Four + One,
Morten Harket,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
Swell Maps,
Jeff Lynne,
Gichy Dan,
Brothers Johnson,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
Patti Smith,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Half Japanese,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.