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 Mozambique and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Human League to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Mandrill,
The Litter,
Zapp,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cramps,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moleskins,
Kayak,
Jawbox,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Nirvana,
Pantytec,
Neu!,
Bluetip,
Johnny Clarke,
Piero Umiliani,
ABC,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mummies,
Television,
Stockholm Monsters,
Steve Hackett,
Dave Gahan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Certain Ratio,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra,
The Standells,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erasure,
Graham Central Station,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
Organ,
Minny Pops,
Parry Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
Lou Christie,
Derrick May,
Yaz,
Sparks,
Aaron Thompson,
Cal Tjader,
Silicon Teens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.