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 Benin and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 David Bowie 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 Magazine to the jazz 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Desert Stars,
Loose Ends,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Mark Hollis,
Blancmange,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monks,
Mars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Drive Like Jehu,
Piero Umiliani,
Massinfluence,
Sex Pistols,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
The Slits,
Oblivians,
Funky Four + One,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
The Names,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sound Behaviour,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
the Human League,
L. Decosne,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eli Mardock,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Ohio Players,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brick,
Hasil Adkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scientists,
Delta 5,
Arcadia,
The Gories,
The Techniques,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.