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 Colombia and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cybotron to the rap 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Lower 48,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Index,
Clear Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Skriet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Organ,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anthony Braxton,
Wings,
Sixth Finger,
10cc,
Parry Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scion,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
Oblivians,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Silicon Teens,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joy Division,
The Knickerbockers,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Section 25,
Funkadelic,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Althea and Donna,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.