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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 an oboe and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fortunes,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
Gang Green,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Y Pants,
Aswad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skaos,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hasil Adkins,
Funkadelic,
The Last Poets,
Amon Düül II,
The Fugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Duran Duran,
Rekid,
Quantec,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
Amon Düül,
Black Sheep,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Victims,
Soul II Soul,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Television,
Colin Newman,
X-102,
Sound Behaviour,
John Cale,
Ossler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Scion,
Khruangbin,
The Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
ABBA,
Bill Near,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Surgeon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.