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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grime 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalann,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
The Happenings,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
Kaleidoscope,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suburban Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
Buzzcocks,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Marmalade,
Zapp,
Procol Harum,
Easy Going,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Altered Images,
Camberwell Now,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monks,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blackbyrds,
The Buckinghams,
Arab on Radar,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
The Last Poets,
The Fortunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
UT,
Warren Ellis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Von Mondo,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.