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 South Africa and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rites of Spring to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Parry Music,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
Urselle,
Nico,
Bob Dylan,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
Fela Kuti,
DNA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
World's Most,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slave,
Can,
Marine Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cluster,
Little Man,
Michelle Simonal,
Hot Snakes,
Minor Threat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eden Ahbez,
Radiohead,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Skaos,
The Smoke,
Drexciya,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
The Moody Blues,
Basic Channel,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nas,
Echospace,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Trojans,
Jacques Brel,
Chris Corsano,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fluxion,
Skriet,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.