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 Switzerland 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Liliput,
Tears for Fears,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Interpol,
Lyres,
Section 25,
Pulsallama,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Scientists,
OOIOO,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Ultra Naté,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soul II Soul,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Trojans,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
John Holt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Warsaw,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
The Moody Blues,
The Dirtbombs,
Youth Brigade,
Inner City,
T. Rex,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Flipper,
Livin' Joy,
The Smiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
Depeche Mode,
Judy Mowatt,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül,
The Gap Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.