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 Norway 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Connie Case,
Be Bop Deluxe,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythm & Sound,
Siglo XX,
Tres Demented,
Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
The Sound,
Derrick May,
ABC,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Icehouse,
Fad Gadget,
DNA,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Absolute Body Control,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
10cc,
Warren Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Technova,
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix,
Agitation Free,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Nik Kershaw,
The Slits,
Schoolly D,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arthur Verocai,
Whodini,
The Smiths,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Tears for Fears,
Pole,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.