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 Spain and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Todd Rundgren to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
The Toasters,
The Slackers,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
Pantytec,
Severed Heads,
Easy Going,
Leonard Cohen,
Y Pants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott Heron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
Niagra,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soul Sonic Force,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Ludus,
K-Klass,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
Lucky Dragons,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
DNA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quadrant,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Womack,
Cluster,
the Slits,
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
Ronan,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Japan,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dead C,
The Mummies,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.