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 Guyana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Tom Boy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Vogues,
Tom Boy,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Delta 5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Silicon Teens,
Agent Orange,
Icehouse,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Supertramp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ten City,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kaleidoscope,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic,
Ultravox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Associates,
Magma,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
Soft Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Carl Craig,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Infiniti,
New Age Steppers,
kango's stein massive,
Heaven 17,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Görl,
This Heat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aural Exciters,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Pagans,
X-102,
Ken Boothe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radiohead,
Dawn Penn,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.