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 Ethiopia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro 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 L. Decosne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aaron Thompson,
Au Pairs,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
Circle Jerks,
D'Angelo,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Victims,
Royal Trux,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacob Miller,
The Offenders,
Peter & Gordon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Christie,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Bar-Kays,
John Foxx,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cymande,
Eric Dolphy,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Althea and Donna,
June Days,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
Morten Harket,
The Pretty Things,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Lower 48,
Alphaville,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
The Zeros,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.