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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
Reuben Wilson,
Brothers Johnson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang On A Can,
Simply Red,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Young Marble Giants,
Dark Day,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Heaven 17,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronan,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Toasters,
Nils Olav,
Whodini,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
Neu!,
Chrome,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
John Cale,
Symarip,
Sparks,
Wasted Youth,
PIL,
Anthony Braxton,
The Busters,
Supertramp,
Eve St. Jones,
Ohio Players,
Tom Boy,
Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ten City,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gap Band,
Malaria!,
The Slits,
Aloha Tigers,
Harmonia,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythm & Sound,
Massinfluence,
Audionom,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.