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 Guyana and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alarm Clocks to the rap 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
Black Pus,
Mo-Dettes,
Ludus,
Robert Wyatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
David Bowie,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
Minor Threat,
Tears for Fears,
Boz Scaggs,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
Wolf Eyes,
Scratch Acid,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brand Nubian,
Deepchord,
One Last Wish,
Can,
Kayak,
the Slits,
The Residents,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Iggy Pop,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Ohio Players,
The Motions,
Quantec,
Tim Buckley,
The Evens,
Underground Resistance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crooked Eye,
Subhumans,
Roxette,
48th St. Collective,
Sun City Girls,
Negative Approach,
U.S. Maple,
Accadde A,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Janne Schatter,
Organ,
Slave,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.