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 Bolivia and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Bauhaus to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Cheater Slicks,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suicide,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Machine,
Juan Atkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Eric Dolphy,
Iggy Pop,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Sandy B,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DNA,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
The Tremeloes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Audionom,
Newcleus,
PIL,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June of 44,
Harmonia,
Second Layer,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Remains,
Visage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
48th St. Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
The Kinks,
Trumans Water,
Arthur Verocai,
Slave,
Swell Maps,
The Fugs,
The Real Kids,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.