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 Colombia and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 New Order to the jazz 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Connie Case,
Anthony Braxton,
Yaz,
Glenn Branca,
The Mummies,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
Pulsallama,
Judy Mowatt,
Aloha Tigers,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Germs,
Janne Schatter,
Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
kango's stein massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Roxette,
Severed Heads,
Q65,
Marmalade,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Moon,
Sandy B,
the Bar-Kays,
Stereo Dub,
Kayak,
Bootsy Collins,
Warsaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
The Monochrome Set,
Scott Walker,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Associates,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
JFA,
The Stooges,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unrelated Segments,
Danielle Patucci,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
Au Pairs,
Boredoms,
Chris Corsano,
Ultra Naté,
Chrome,
Susan Cadogan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.