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 Mozambique and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
The Kinks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barry Ungar,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
Scientists,
Tommy Roe,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül II,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
Oblivians,
The Sound,
World's Most,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Tim Buckley,
Donny Hathaway,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Henry Cow,
48th St. Collective,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Parry Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Normal,
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pylon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Swans,
DJ Sneak,
Yaz,
Mandrill,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
10cc,
cv313,
Lou Christie,
The Zeros,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Ponytail,
Soulsonic Force,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
The Vogues,
The Count Five,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.