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 Kosovo and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Unwound,
Roxy Music,
The Pretty Things,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed,
Rotary Connection,
Kas Product,
Cluster,
Hoover,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anthony Braxton,
E-Dancer,
Lakeside,
Dead Boys,
The Kinks,
The Gladiators,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Joe Finger,
Soulsonic Force,
The Smiths,
Television Personalities,
The Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacques Brel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
MDC,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick Morgan,
The Moleskins,
Moebius,
The Red Krayola,
Oblivians,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
Nico,
Aaron Thompson,
Ossler,
Sister Nancy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Seeds,
the Association,
Depeche Mode,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.