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 Micronesia and from Houston.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
Archie Shepp,
Michelle Simonal,
Barry Ungar,
Cheater Slicks,
Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
LL Cool J,
OOIOO,
AZ,
Graham Central Station,
Zapp,
Suburban Knight,
The Barracudas,
Swell Maps,
John Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
The Standells,
Henry Cow,
The Sound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
One Last Wish,
Moebius,
Vainqueur,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fortunes,
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
The Durutti Column,
Dual Sessions,
Hashim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radio Birdman,
Los Fastidios,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Magazine,
The Selecter,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks,
Cymande,
Yazoo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.