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 Vanuatu and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Joey Negro,
Babytalk,
Steve Hackett,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
Fela Kuti,
Delon & Dalcan,
Derrick May,
Mission of Burma,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
Delta 5,
Symarip,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Mills,
The Saints,
Camberwell Now,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Sex Pistols,
Sixth Finger,
Bad Manners,
Public Enemy,
Technova,
Nils Olav,
Inner City,
Faust,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Little Man,
One Last Wish,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Wyatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Barry Ungar,
Moss Icon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.