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 Saudi Arabia and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the snare 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 Shoche to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Michelle Simonal,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Das Ding,
Massinfluence,
Ice-T,
Pantytec,
Youth Brigade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
T. Rex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
Swell Maps,
Joey Negro,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
Brand Nubian,
The Smoke,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter and Kerry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monks,
Country Teasers,
Aural Exciters,
Agitation Free,
Danielle Patucci,
Echospace,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Loose Ends,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fortunes,
Wings,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terry Callier,
E-Dancer,
Soul Sonic Force,
Panda Bear,
The Misunderstood,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
Average White Band,
The Motions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.