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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the punk 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Toasters,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
Brothers Johnson,
Faraquet,
Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Organ,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eden Ahbez,
Laurel Aitken,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythm & Sound,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Remains,
Marine Girls,
Mad Mike,
Crooked Eye,
Fatback Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erykah Badu,
Dead Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Flamin' Groovies,
The New Christs,
The Black Dice,
The Raincoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Velvet Underground,
Gong,
Basic Channel,
Gang of Four,
New Order,
Hashim,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Count Five,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The Fuzztones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dark Day,
Michelle Simonal,
Quando Quango,
Suburban Knight,
Von Mondo,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.