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 Senegal 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Absolute Body Control 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lalo Schifrin,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slits,
Reuben Wilson,
Minutemen,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Zero Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Trojans,
Matthew Halsall,
Donny Hathaway,
T. Rex,
The Cramps,
The Index,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yazoo,
Cymande,
Buzzcocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
The Vogues,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Q and Not U,
Minny Pops,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
H. Thieme,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
Judy Mowatt,
Ronan,
Lalann,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Popol Vuh,
Minnie Riperton,
Basic Channel,
Kaleidoscope,
Grey Daturas,
Suburban Knight,
Scan 7,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed,
June Days,
Maleditus Sound,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.