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 Uzbekistan and from New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Kinks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Fraelich,
Technova,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fat Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Unwound,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Al Stewart,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Popol Vuh,
Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Green,
Dark Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Victims,
Mission of Burma,
These Immortal Souls,
Babytalk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Zapp,
Camberwell Now,
Maleditus Sound,
The Raincoats,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Siglo XX,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Bourne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
Quando Quango,
Derrick Morgan,
The Techniques,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ronnie Foster,
Subhumans,
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
John Holt,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerrie Biddell,
Shoche,
Electric Light Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.