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 Tanzania and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Eli Mardock to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
The Seeds,
Basic Channel,
The Grass Roots,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Heaven 17,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Idris Muhammad,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
Pagans,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
D'Angelo,
Rekid,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
Lou Reed,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Icehouse,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moleskins,
Aural Exciters,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
Gang Starr,
These Immortal Souls,
Moby Grape,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
The Young Rascals,
Dorothy Ashby,
Interpol,
The Pretty Things,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Saccharine Trust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aswad,
The Gap Band,
Bush Tetras,
June of 44,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
Scan 7,
Johnny Clarke,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.