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 Sierra Leone and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the jazz 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Desert Stars,
Yazoo,
Spandau Ballet,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erykah Badu,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Byrd,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Marmalade,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joensuu 1685,
Whodini,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Animal Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
U.S. Maple,
The Golliwogs,
Sandy B,
Sister Nancy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Eli Mardock,
Flipper,
Al Stewart,
Black Pus,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
The Neon Judgement,
R.M.O.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sight & Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Audionom,
Kas Product,
Arab on Radar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
The Barracudas,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Max Romeo,
Ronan,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.