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 Suriname and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Chris & Cosey to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Magazine,
Angry Samoans,
Soulsonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
Hardrive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Minutemen,
the Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Womack,
Mo-Dettes,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
Pere Ubu,
Arcadia,
Youth Brigade,
John Foxx,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Scientists,
Boz Scaggs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed,
The Smiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scion,
Buzzcocks,
Camouflage,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Sherman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sixth Finger,
Guru Guru,
Rotary Connection,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Germs,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
The Techniques,
Main Source,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Star Department,
10cc,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.