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 Panama and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Angry Samoans to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
the Normal,
Lakeside,
ABC,
Judy Mowatt,
Minor Threat,
Gang Green,
The Seeds,
The Monks,
Popol Vuh,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Sam Rivers,
Goldenarms,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kurtis Blow,
Nils Olav,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ice-T,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Skarface,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amazonics,
Can,
Godley & Creme,
Alton Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
June of 44,
John Foxx,
Rotary Connection,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
Eli Mardock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-102,
X-101,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Niagra,
Funkadelic,
Symarip,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
Skriet,
The Kinks,
The Pretty Things,
Sparks,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.