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 Fiji and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Yazoo,
Wolf Eyes,
U.S. Maple,
The Grass Roots,
Dave Gahan,
Scrapy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
MC5,
Anakelly,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
Lungfish,
Tom Boy,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Golliwogs,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
Khruangbin,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
Skaos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Human League,
The Toasters,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
Newcleus,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
Dark Day,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Wells,
The Victims,
Von Mondo,
The New Christs,
The Cure,
Agitation Free,
Public Image Ltd.,
EPMD,
The Shadows of Knight,
Parry Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.