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 Rwanda and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 10cc to the disco 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Graham Central Station,
Lightning Bolt,
The Wake,
Gang Starr,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bill Wells,
Public Enemy,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
Inner City,
Kas Product,
Visage,
Soulsonic Force,
Hasil Adkins,
Connie Case,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Lydon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
John Foxx,
Sällskapet,
Model 500,
The Dirtbombs,
The Names,
Letta Mbulu,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Christie,
The Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Y Pants,
Flash Fearless,
Television Personalities,
Amazonics,
cv313,
The Black Dice,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Little Man,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Suburban Knight,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Schoolly D,
Metal Thangz,
Japan,
Amon Düül,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.