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 Hungary and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grauzone to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Simply Red,
The Angels of Light,
Visage,
The Beau Brummels,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wire,
X-Ray Spex,
Rod Modell,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siglo XX,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
Michelle Simonal,
Khruangbin,
Flash Fearless,
ABBA,
The United States of America,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
DNA,
Pharoah Sanders,
Royal Trux,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rites of Spring,
Steve Hackett,
Roger Hodgson,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
A Certain Ratio,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Anthony Braxton,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
Peter & Gordon,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.