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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Donald Fagen 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 Jeff Mills to the punk 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Associates,
The Fall,
Minor Threat,
New York Dolls,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
Sexual Harrassment,
KRS-One,
Symarip,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angry Samoans,
Negative Approach,
The Buckinghams,
The Tremeloes,
Hot Snakes,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
Ultravox,
Darondo,
Zero Boys,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Buzzcocks,
Quantec,
The Red Krayola,
Eurythmics,
Main Source,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
Dark Day,
Joey Negro,
Fear,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Slits,
Simply Red,
Davy DMX,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Joy Division,
Deakin,
OOIOO,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.