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 Somalia and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Red Krayola to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
Babytalk,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pere Ubu,
Niagra,
The Cure,
Make Up,
Tommy Roe,
Oneida,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
Junior Murvin,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
the Association,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gladiators,
Joey Negro,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Reuben Wilson,
Hardrive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The J.B.'s,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mars,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Graham Central Station,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Rites of Spring,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Count Five,
Von Mondo,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
The Invisible,
The Flesh Eaters,
Carl Craig,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
Organ,
The Birthday Party,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Clarke,
Flash Fearless,
Popol Vuh,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Aaron Thompson,
the Bar-Kays,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.