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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Wings to the funk 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
The Count Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
The Index,
The Doors,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James White and The Blacks,
Gichy Dan,
Buzzcocks,
Sister Nancy,
Rakim,
The United States of America,
The Neon Judgement,
Average White Band,
the Soft Cell,
The Moody Blues,
Alice Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cymande,
Deepchord,
The Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blackbyrds,
Mandrill,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
JFA,
Cluster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nirvana,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Eden Ahbez,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Soul II Soul,
Chris Corsano,
Stetsasonic,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.