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 Djibouti and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Smoke to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Bang On A Can,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Almond,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Swans,
Q65,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Germs,
Parry Music,
Scan 7,
Alice Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jandek,
Country Teasers,
Deakin,
Nas,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
The Cramps,
X-101,
10cc,
The Motions,
Pole,
the Soft Cell,
Kurtis Blow,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Near,
Brand Nubian,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Suburban Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
Angry Samoans,
Fela Kuti,
Eli Mardock,
The New Christs,
Von Mondo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
The Busters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Remains,
Eric Dolphy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
Outsiders,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.