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 Luxembourg and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 La Düsseldorf to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Los Fastidios,
Soulsonic Force,
Brass Construction,
Organ,
The Offenders,
The Searchers,
Eve St. Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
The Tremeloes,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Half Japanese,
Delon & Dalcan,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Byrd,
Public Image Ltd.,
Steve Hackett,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Siglo XX,
Anthony Braxton,
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Schoolly D,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
Excepter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
Sparks,
World's Most,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Last Poets,
Ohio Players,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
Negative Approach,
Unwound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
ABC,
Tubeway Army,
The Velvet Underground,
Sarah Menescal,
Desert Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Crime,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.