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 Somalia and from Paris.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Symarip,
The Fuzztones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Susan Cadogan,
John Holt,
Byron Stingily,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Womack,
Liliput,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Henry Cow,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barrington Levy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Moon,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Busters,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Soft Cell,
Fugazi,
The Modern Lovers,
Stetsasonic,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Human League,
The Human League,
Dave Gahan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Star Department,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Brass Construction,
Steve Hackett,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Audionom,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.