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 Tajikistan 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Infiniti to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Gang Starr,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
OOIOO,
Desert Stars,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy Collins,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
Lyres,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
the Normal,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
E-Dancer,
David McCallum,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
John Foxx,
Mantronix,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Quantec,
Cal Tjader,
Reuben Wilson,
The Associates,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Busters,
Scion,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Supertramp,
Sound Behaviour,
Deepchord,
Yazoo,
the Germs,
World's Most,
Television Personalities,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
Nas,
Letta Mbulu,
Bauhaus,
The Smiths,
B.T. Express,
Buzzcocks,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Sparks,
Ten City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
the Human League,
Cameo,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.