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 Peru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
The Monochrome Set,
The Velvet Underground,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rekid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kaleidoscope,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yaz,
Wings,
The Neon Judgement,
The Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Black Dice,
Laurel Aitken,
Idris Muhammad,
The Techniques,
ABBA,
KRS-One,
Ice-T,
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yazoo,
Deadbeat,
Toni Rubio,
Darondo,
China Crisis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
Boredoms,
Mark Hollis,
Fugazi,
The Residents,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alice Coltrane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mojo Men,
Bluetip,
Unrelated Segments,
Joe Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
Sandy B,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Agitation Free,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.