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 Burkina and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Flag,
Bush Tetras,
New York Dolls,
Funkadelic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Teasers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Litter,
Roxy Music,
Groovy Waters,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Fatback Band,
Max Romeo,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Clarke,
Television Personalities,
Aswad,
Bill Near,
Echospace,
The Mojo Men,
Peter and Kerry,
Alison Limerick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Tim Buckley,
Scratch Acid,
The Motions,
Liliput,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Donald Byrd,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dirtbombs,
Stereo Dub,
Josef K,
the Association,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grey Daturas,
Arab on Radar,
Pole,
Spoonie Gee,
Niagra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.