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 Turkmenistan and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultra Naté to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
JFA,
Oblivians,
Rakim,
ABBA,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Byrd,
Gichy Dan,
The Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
The Vogues,
Dave Gahan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Piero Umiliani,
Charles Mingus,
Erykah Badu,
World's Most,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Kurtis Blow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yellowson,
Los Fastidios,
Michelle Simonal,
Soul II Soul,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Fatback Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Flipper,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
Moss Icon,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Section 25,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oneida,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
The Skatalites,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.