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 Yemen and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Holger Czukay 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 E-Dancer to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Zeros,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thompson Twins,
The Walker Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
F. McDonald,
Albert Ayler,
Warren Ellis,
Ice-T,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry's Kids,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
The Mummies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Letta Mbulu,
Al Stewart,
Fort Wilson Riot,
E-Dancer,
T. Rex,
Soft Cell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Niagra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Althea and Donna,
Prince Buster,
Matthew Bourne,
The Angels of Light,
Ponytail,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
PIL,
Fugazi,
Fear,
Organ,
Livin' Joy,
Terry Callier,
The Leaves,
John Holt,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
the Normal,
D'Angelo,
Blake Baxter,
The Young Rascals,
Joy Division,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.