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 Tunisia and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Flamin' Groovies to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Second Layer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Womack,
the Swans,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
David Bowie,
Albert Ayler,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
The Five Americans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tim Buckley,
Joe Finger,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
The Vogues,
R.M.O.,
AZ,
E-Dancer,
Reagan Youth,
Roxette,
The Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Icehouse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Aural Exciters,
The Monochrome Set,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Near,
Chris & Cosey,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
cv313,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Buzzcocks,
The Count Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suicide,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siglo XX,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.