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 Germany and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
The Last Poets,
Kayak,
Franke,
Tim Buckley,
The Modern Lovers,
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
Slave,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio,
U.S. Maple,
Funkadelic,
The Fugs,
Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
The Moleskins,
Moby Grape,
Siglo XX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swans,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
Hoover,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantaleimon,
Bang On A Can,
Skarface,
Maurizio,
The Invisible,
Brothers Johnson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
Pylon,
X-101,
Massinfluence,
Grey Daturas,
Donald Byrd,
The Vogues,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blake Baxter,
The Victims,
Man Eating Sloth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
The Gladiators,
Chrome,
Johnny Clarke,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Foxx,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Peter and Kerry,
Guru Guru,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.