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 Monaco and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Los Fastidios to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Funky Four + One,
Nirvana,
Fluxion,
10cc,
Minor Threat,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warsaw,
DJ Style,
Dawn Penn,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Skatalites,
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Davy DMX,
Todd Terry,
The Victims,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Joey Negro,
Clear Light,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deakin,
LL Cool J,
Khruangbin,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Adolescents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rod Modell,
The Moody Blues,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
Tubeway Army,
Section 25,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
The Gun Club,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.