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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Buckinghams,
Nick Fraelich,
Ituana,
Symarip,
Crime,
Joe Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
Anakelly,
Wire,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Susan Cadogan,
Desert Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Fad Gadget,
Youth Brigade,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Association,
The Pop Group,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fatback Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
LL Cool J,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Görl,
The Gun Club,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Banda Bassotti,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scratch Acid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül,
Q and Not U,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harmonia,
The Neon Judgement,
Scrapy,
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Derrick May,
Panda Bear,
John Cale,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Buzzcocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Black Flag,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.