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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tim Buckley 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Intrusion,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fall,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Zero Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Blues Magoos,
Nirvana,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Outsiders,
Jerry's Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mo-Dettes,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cymande,
ABC,
The Standells,
Shuggie Otis,
Connie Case,
Byron Stingily,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Style,
a-ha,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
Erykah Badu,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yellowson,
The Slits,
Colin Newman,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.