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 Guinea 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron 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 The Angels of Light to the electroclash 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Last Poets,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
Maleditus Sound,
R.M.O.,
Parry Music,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Malaria!,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
10cc,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Adolescents,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
The Doors,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
Roxette,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deakin,
Oblivians,
Monolake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Iggy Pop,
Cal Tjader,
Bluetip,
Livin' Joy,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
Barry Ungar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
A Certain Ratio,
Yellowson,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.