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 Portugal and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jerry's Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
Liliput,
Rites of Spring,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cramps,
ABC,
Newcleus,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Walker Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Ohio Players,
Young Marble Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
Deepchord,
Lou Christie,
The Trojans,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
Slick Rick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smoke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Peter and Kerry,
Thee Headcoats,
Sandy B,
Visage,
Bad Manners,
Little Man,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Human League,
Skarface,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.