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 Lebanon and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lindisfarne to the grime 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
PIL,
The Grass Roots,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blackbyrds,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Almond,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool Moe Dee,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
Suicide,
Bauhaus,
The Birthday Party,
Lower 48,
The Flesh Eaters,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Order,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeff Lynne,
Moebius,
Rhythm & Sound,
Negative Approach,
Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Smog,
Audionom,
Morten Harket,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
Zapp,
Jawbox,
Silicon Teens,
Chris & Cosey,
Banda Bassotti,
Darondo,
Crooked Eye,
Piero Umiliani,
John Cale,
Sexual Harrassment,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Albert Ayler,
Jacob Miller,
Deadbeat,
Jeff Mills,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.