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 East Timor 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Hoover to the jazz 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Glenn Branca,
Hoover,
Young Marble Giants,
Morten Harket,
Babytalk,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Remains,
Avey Tare,
Depeche Mode,
The Music Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gong,
Peter & Gordon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Agitation Free,
The Walker Brothers,
Blancmange,
Pole,
D'Angelo,
the Human League,
Massinfluence,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amon Düül II,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smoke,
a-ha,
The J.B.'s,
The Birthday Party,
Agent Orange,
The Kinks,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
Colin Newman,
Bizarre Inc.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mark Hollis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Interpol,
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.