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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Inner City to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Man Eating Sloth,
UT,
Guru Guru,
Icehouse,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nico,
Derrick May,
Scientists,
Neil Young,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erasure,
Bobby Womack,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aswad,
Negative Approach,
Pierre Henry,
The Five Americans,
Depeche Mode,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glenn Branca,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
Carl Craig,
New Age Steppers,
Tres Demented,
Clear Light,
Shoche,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
48th St. Collective,
The Cramps,
The Associates,
Organ,
The Kinks,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
Metal Thangz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
a-ha,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Ronnie Foster,
Grey Daturas,
the Swans,
Ken Boothe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
World's Most,
CMW,
The Moleskins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.