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 Guatemala and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Music Machine,
UT,
The Wake,
The Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kurtis Blow,
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sonic Youth,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
Icehouse,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flash Fearless,
Groovy Waters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
Blossom Toes,
Suburban Knight,
Ultravox,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
D'Angelo,
Marmalade,
Fela Kuti,
Matthew Bourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Intrusion,
Masters at Work,
Piero Umiliani,
Charles Mingus,
Albert Ayler,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
Kas Product,
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
Erykah Badu,
Fatback Band,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
B.T. Express,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.