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 Mauritius and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Gabor Szabo,
the Normal,
Pylon,
X-101,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
The Kinks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Evens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marine Girls,
Kayak,
Audionom,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eli Mardock,
Animal Collective,
Minny Pops,
Altered Images,
Nas,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dirtbombs,
Yazoo,
Lalann,
Mission of Burma,
Nik Kershaw,
Crooked Eye,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
Drexciya,
The Busters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Matthew Bourne,
Agitation Free,
Inner City,
KRS-One,
The Names,
Erykah Badu,
The Black Dice,
Lucky Dragons,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Hood,
Whodini,
Rotary Connection,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.