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 Benin and from Bologna.
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 Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the dance 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
the Bar-Kays,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
kango's stein massive,
Todd Terry,
Rosa Yemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Simply Red,
Scott Walker,
Mark Hollis,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
E-Dancer,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
Fear,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Nils Olav,
Outsiders,
Marmalade,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Bob Dylan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bad Manners,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Royal Trux,
The American Breed,
Rod Modell,
New Order,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
Eddi Front,
Pulsallama,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Bronski Beat,
The Martian,
The Victims,
Sixth Finger,
Brass Construction,
Steve Hackett,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.