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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the dance 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Panda Bear,
The Red Krayola,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Black Dice,
Danielle Patucci,
Spandau Ballet,
Angry Samoans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
Blancmange,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rites of Spring,
Skarface,
Idris Muhammad,
Donny Hathaway,
Archie Shepp,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
The Residents,
Subhumans,
The Walker Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Matthew Bourne,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
The Saints,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
The Durutti Column,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Morten Harket,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
Newcleus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Dead Boys,
The Busters,
Kurtis Blow,
D'Angelo,
DNA,
MC5,
Lou Reed,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dave Gahan,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.