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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sex Pistols to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Model 500,
Jawbox,
The Gladiators,
Man Parrish,
Sandy B,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Echospace,
Suburban Knight,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Blossom Toes,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
The Velvet Underground,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
Jandek,
Stereo Dub,
Essential Logic,
The Fire Engines,
Wire,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms,
Technova,
The Electric Prunes,
One Last Wish,
Aswad,
Ken Boothe,
Bluetip,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Womack,
Kevin Saunderson,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Spoonie Gee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
The Motions,
Amon Düül,
Silicon Teens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moss Icon,
The New Christs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
The Buckinghams,
Babytalk,
Newcleus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stiv Bators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arab on Radar,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.