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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Minny Pops 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Victims,
Harmonia,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Human League,
a-ha,
The Pop Group,
Max Romeo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
Mo-Dettes,
Blossom Toes,
The Doors,
Au Pairs,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Von Mondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
T.S.O.L.,
The Angels of Light,
New Order,
Dorothy Ashby,
China Crisis,
Nick Fraelich,
Ronan,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
Buzzcocks,
Severed Heads,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Count Five,
Y Pants,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Smog,
DJ Sneak,
Maleditus Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cecil Taylor,
Quando Quango,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.