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 Albania and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Iggy Pop to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
Agitation Free,
Davy DMX,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
China Crisis,
Laurel Aitken,
the Sonics,
Jeff Mills,
Rosa Yemen,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
T. Rex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nirvana,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Real Kids,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
The Count Five,
New Order,
The Skatalites,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
The Music Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Jimmy McGriff,
Intrusion,
The Fuzztones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
James White and The Blacks,
Supertramp,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.