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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dave Gahan to the disco 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Roxette,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
Metal Thangz,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Silicon Teens,
Sun City Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Rod Modell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monochrome Set,
Dual Sessions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mandrill,
Procol Harum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Arthur Verocai,
Wally Richardson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fluxion,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Angels of Light,
Althea and Donna,
Connie Case,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Womack,
Negative Approach,
Stetsasonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fall,
Khruangbin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Modern Lovers,
Maurizio,
Faust,
Alison Limerick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scientists,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
MC5,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.