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 Vietnam and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe 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 Harry Pussy to the rap 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
The Toasters,
Agitation Free,
Symarip,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Patti Smith,
Skaos,
Isaac Hayes,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
Suicide,
Zapp,
The Barracudas,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
The Modern Lovers,
Faraquet,
David Bowie,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sugar Minott,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rites of Spring,
Kurtis Blow,
The Buckinghams,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Order,
Harmonia,
Lungfish,
The Remains,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Severed Heads,
Brothers Johnson,
The Tremeloes,
Vladislav Delay,
The Techniques,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
The Fugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Chris & Cosey,
Scrapy,
Negative Approach,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Black Sheep,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Camouflage,
Subhumans,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.