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 Portugal 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ohio Players to the electroclash 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gories,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Yazoo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Fear,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
The Last Poets,
Black Bananas,
Joe Smooth,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Dawn Penn,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
Main Source,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
The Seeds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
The Knickerbockers,
John Holt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ohio Players,
Altered Images,
Joensuu 1685,
EPMD,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fela Kuti,
Al Stewart,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
The Offenders,
Kerri Chandler,
Stiv Bators,
The Zeros,
Deadbeat,
The Skatalites,
Eric Copeland,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
The Motions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Juan Atkins,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül,
Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
Trumans Water,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.