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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Moebius to the crunk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Bob Dylan,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
The Birthday Party,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
The Angels of Light,
Livin' Joy,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Lower 48,
The Pop Group,
Glenn Branca,
JFA,
One Last Wish,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Eden Ahbez,
Barrington Levy,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
Kayak,
Skriet,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Parry Music,
T. Rex,
Ultra Naté,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Delta 5,
Joe Finger,
David Bowie,
James White and The Blacks,
Scion,
Aaron Thompson,
Wasted Youth,
The Seeds,
Black Pus,
Oneida,
Sarah Menescal,
Underground Resistance,
The Tremeloes,
Faraquet,
Suicide,
Pulsallama,
Bush Tetras,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
Gang Starr,
Soft Machine,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.