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 Switzerland and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Danielle Patucci to the grime 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cluster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lyres,
Anakelly,
John Foxx,
The Litter,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
The Associates,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mantronix,
Circle Jerks,
The New Christs,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Starr,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Essential Logic,
Ultra Naté,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Machine,
Bill Near,
Nils Olav,
Albert Ayler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oneida,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
The Buckinghams,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alton Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Loose Ends,
Nirvana,
X-Ray Spex,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Womack,
Black Flag,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Popol Vuh,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Walker Brothers,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.