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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 48th St. Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Gil Scott Heron,
One Last Wish,
Rod Modell,
The Busters,
Model 500,
Swans,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Alphaville,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun City Girls,
Visage,
Liliput,
Judy Mowatt,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moleskins,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kas Product,
The Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Los Fastidios,
The Victims,
Sound Behaviour,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cameo,
Barrington Levy,
Bronski Beat,
Tim Buckley,
The Selecter,
Danielle Patucci,
Nils Olav,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kayak,
Inner City,
The Cure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Stereo Dub,
Black Moon,
Iggy Pop,
ABBA,
Banda Bassotti,
Rufus Thomas,
Joey Negro,
The Wake,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bad Manners,
H. Thieme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Fraelich,
Magma,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.