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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Chris Corsano to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Eric Dolphy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magazine,
Prince Buster,
Goldenarms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
R.M.O.,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pere Ubu,
Bizarre Inc.,
One Last Wish,
Harry Pussy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maleditus Sound,
John Foxx,
Au Pairs,
The Buckinghams,
Excepter,
Marmalade,
Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Tubeway Army,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
China Crisis,
The Techniques,
Crooked Eye,
Susan Cadogan,
Silicon Teens,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Associates,
Skaos,
Rapeman,
Camberwell Now,
Iggy Pop,
Tommy Roe,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Freddie Wadling,
Basic Channel,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Schoolly D,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skriet,
Davy DMX,
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
48th St. Collective,
Connie Case,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.