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 Haiti and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Circle Jerks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
K-Klass,
Black Sheep,
Von Mondo,
Agitation Free,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed,
James Chance & The Contortions,
One Last Wish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Kinks,
The Blues Magoos,
Cluster,
Reuben Wilson,
Jawbox,
Mandrill,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
the Normal,
Gang of Four,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skarface,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
Judy Mowatt,
Los Fastidios,
Albert Ayler,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
Whodini,
Agent Orange,
Zero Boys,
Don Cherry,
Section 25,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aswad,
The Gories,
Sandy B,
Infiniti,
The Smiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Teasers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
The Cure,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slits,
Mad Mike,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alice Coltrane,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.