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 Libya and from London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 The Stooges to the funk 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Carl Craig,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Morten Harket,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang of Four,
Public Enemy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Altered Images,
Saccharine Trust,
The Birthday Party,
Neu!,
Jacob Miller,
Dead Boys,
Outsiders,
Duran Duran,
Little Man,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
This Heat,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
Rites of Spring,
Wally Richardson,
Nils Olav,
Deadbeat,
The Gun Club,
Technova,
Ornette Coleman,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
The Gap Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Half Japanese,
Soulsonic Force,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Schoolly D,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
Youth Brigade,
The Last Poets,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.