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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 Brothers Johnson to the funk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Toasters,
Henry Cow,
The Remains,
MDC,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
A Certain Ratio,
Peter and Kerry,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
Stereo Dub,
Soul II Soul,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Morten Harket,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dead Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
cv313,
June of 44,
Donald Byrd,
Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Rod Modell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Television Personalities,
David McCallum,
Silicon Teens,
The Grass Roots,
Babytalk,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Neu!,
Essential Logic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cramps,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Toni Rubio,
John Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Moleskins,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
The Invisible,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.