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 Libya and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Swans to the jazz 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Hill,
The Young Rascals,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Livin' Joy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
Moebius,
Unwound,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mark Hollis,
Bad Manners,
Scion,
Bauhaus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
In Retrospect,
Tommy Roe,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Patti Smith,
Siglo XX,
Terry Callier,
Jacques Brel,
The Blackbyrds,
Qualms,
Ornette Coleman,
Junior Murvin,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gories,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lakeside,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
Don Cherry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lungfish,
Nik Kershaw,
10cc,
Index,
Lower 48,
Minny Pops,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
AZ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
Quando Quango,
This Heat,
Infiniti,
The Seeds,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.