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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New Age Steppers to the disco 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
E-Dancer,
Magma,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lower 48,
Nas,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Eddi Front,
Michelle Simonal,
Can,
Parry Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dead Boys,
Inner City,
Sonic Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fuzztones,
Kenny Larkin,
Echospace,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
Mark Hollis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Wally Richardson,
Arthur Verocai,
Camberwell Now,
Sound Behaviour,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Rundgren,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Alice Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grauzone,
Soft Machine,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
The Sound,
The Gories,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
MC5,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxette,
UT,
Chris & Cosey,
The Star Department,
Bobby Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warsaw,
The Litter,
Idris Muhammad,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
The Grass Roots,
Organ,
Scion,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.