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 Palau and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
Minnie Riperton,
Sight & Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
Saccharine Trust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Prince Buster,
The Skatalites,
The Vogues,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
a-ha,
Henry Cow,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
The Index,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
The Fuzztones,
Harmonia,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
Jacques Brel,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Von Mondo,
The Angels of Light,
The Dave Clark Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mandrill,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
Camouflage,
Arthur Verocai,
The Music Machine,
Gang Green,
Alice Coltrane,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
Dual Sessions,
Stereo Dub,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Bananas,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Holt,
Wire,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.