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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nation of Ulysses to the dance 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
Sight & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Oblivians,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
The Gories,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Swans,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fuzztones,
Alphaville,
Dave Gahan,
Popol Vuh,
Gang of Four,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Birthday Party,
Thee Headcoats,
June of 44,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
John Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
Bang On A Can,
Lalo Schifrin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronan,
Eden Ahbez,
Minnie Riperton,
Patti Smith,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Copeland,
Henry Cow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sister Nancy,
The Mojo Men,
Agitation Free,
Slave,
Television,
Josef K,
E-Dancer,
Black Flag,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Urselle,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.