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 Korea South 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 This Heat to the punk 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Whodini,
Archie Shepp,
La Düsseldorf,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reuben Wilson,
Half Japanese,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
The Cowsills,
Charles Mingus,
One Last Wish,
Aaron Thompson,
Skaos,
Neu!,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
Sex Pistols,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kenny Larkin,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantytec,
John Lydon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blues Magoos,
Massinfluence,
Japan,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
10cc,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Altered Images,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The J.B.'s,
FM Einheit,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Quadrant,
Michelle Simonal,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
Skarface,
Crime,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.