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 Djibouti and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lungfish to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
The Cure,
Television,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
Fugazi,
ABBA,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Arcadia,
Basic Channel,
Kerri Chandler,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-101,
Delon & Dalcan,
Metal Thangz,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Faust,
Dark Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tres Demented,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aloha Tigers,
Byron Stingily,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Scion,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Vogues,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül II,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
John Coltrane,
Crime,
The Victims,
Lakeside,
Depeche Mode,
Ronan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.