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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Stetsasonic to the grunge 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Zeros,
Wire,
John Lydon,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare,
Khruangbin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boz Scaggs,
Don Cherry,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
Goldenarms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerri Chandler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Human League,
Ludus,
Marmalade,
Suicide,
Scrapy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Underground Resistance,
Bootsy Collins,
Sugar Minott,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
Rekid,
Skarface,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Mr. Review,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Public Enemy,
Cheater Slicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quantec,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q and Not U,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.