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 Albania 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
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 oboe 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 Whodini to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
AZ,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
The Cowsills,
Loose Ends,
Supertramp,
Make Up,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nils Olav,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doors,
Fatback Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Derrick Morgan,
the Normal,
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
R.M.O.,
DJ Sneak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Colin Newman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Simply Red,
48th St. Collective,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Henry Cow,
David Bowie,
Japan,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Section 25,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.