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 Seychelles and from Columbus.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Duran Duran,
Black Moon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lyres,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
Nik Kershaw,
Slave,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nils Olav,
Accadde A,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
Marvin Gaye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lungfish,
The Neon Judgement,
Hardrive,
Patti Smith,
The Kinks,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
Monks,
Amazonics,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Gang of Four,
The Names,
Quadrant,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
Hasil Adkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ponytail,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Schoolly D,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.