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 Cuba and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slick Rick to the funk 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Circle Jerks,
The Motions,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Christie,
Television Personalities,
Pantytec,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
Moss Icon,
Main Source,
H. Thieme,
Deadbeat,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bronski Beat,
Yusef Lateef,
Kayak,
Fat Boys,
Lou Reed,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
The Skatalites,
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Faraquet,
Anthony Braxton,
kango's stein massive,
Smog,
K-Klass,
Deakin,
Marine Girls,
Eddi Front,
Bauhaus,
Cal Tjader,
the Sonics,
Liliput,
Peter and Kerry,
Stiv Bators,
a-ha,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Ronan,
Fatback Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Max Romeo,
Khruangbin,
Mission of Burma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
The Velvet Underground,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.