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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Big Daddy Kane to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Funkadelic,
Matthew Halsall,
Depeche Mode,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Niagra,
The Motions,
Minny Pops,
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Franke,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
EPMD,
Severed Heads,
The Searchers,
Colin Newman,
The Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
the Human League,
The Smoke,
The Gap Band,
Sun Ra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Flipper,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pere Ubu,
Gang of Four,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Panda Bear,
Q and Not U,
June Days,
Tubeway Army,
This Heat,
Whodini,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mojo Men,
Crash Course in Science,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
The Fortunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cluster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deadbeat,
The Techniques,
The Index,
The Standells,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.