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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wake to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Alice Coltrane,
Accadde A,
The Wake,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Steve Hackett,
Neu!,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
a-ha,
Lalann,
The Evens,
Marc Almond,
La Düsseldorf,
The Young Rascals,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
F. McDonald,
Marmalade,
The Mummies,
Soul II Soul,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
Qualms,
Nils Olav,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
Mark Hollis,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
The Buckinghams,
ABC,
John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Lyres,
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Japan,
Junior Murvin,
Peter & Gordon,
DNA,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Age Steppers,
Fela Kuti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.