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 Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Divine Comedy,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Q65,
The Monks,
Monks,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pagans,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
The Gladiators,
Bill Wells,
Grey Daturas,
The Zeros,
Nils Olav,
Mantronix,
Metal Thangz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
Fad Gadget,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dead Boys,
Faraquet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
Althea and Donna,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cybotron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Dark Day,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.