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 Germany and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crime,
Ludus,
Fatback Band,
PIL,
Television,
Amon Düül,
Livin' Joy,
John Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Arab on Radar,
Warren Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Schoolly D,
Bush Tetras,
Henry Cow,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Cal Tjader,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
Dave Gahan,
Surgeon,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nirvana,
Soft Cell,
Hashim,
Gong,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Prunes,
James White and The Blacks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Spandau Ballet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Lower 48,
Country Teasers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Count Five,
Pierre Henry,
The Seeds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.