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 Botswana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Michael McDonald 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 Rod Modell to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Sällskapet,
Surgeon,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bauhaus,
In Retrospect,
The Raincoats,
Inner City,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dave Gahan,
Colin Newman,
Susan Cadogan,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners,
Goldenarms,
The Leaves,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
New Order,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deadbeat,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
Cybotron,
Rekid,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Swans,
Funkadelic,
Desert Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Aural Exciters,
Warren Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Idris Muhammad,
X-102,
Pulsallama,
Amon Düül II,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Slackers,
Severed Heads,
The Fugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shoche,
Basic Channel,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.