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 Mozambique and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Echospace to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Scan 7,
Chris & Cosey,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Invisible,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sight & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crooked Eye,
Yellowson,
Joyce Sims,
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
Moebius,
The Victims,
Eli Mardock,
the Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Kurtis Blow,
Basic Channel,
Matthew Halsall,
John Cale,
The United States of America,
The Slits,
Nico,
The Martian,
Outsiders,
The Mummies,
Spoonie Gee,
Pole,
Grey Daturas,
The Grass Roots,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Human League,
Liliput,
Todd Terry,
Duran Duran,
Royal Trux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Unwound,
Maleditus Sound,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.