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 Swaziland and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Kool Moe Dee,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
Bauhaus,
The Black Dice,
Josef K,
Fatback Band,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Halsall,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
Subhumans,
The Smoke,
UT,
The Saints,
Cameo,
Letta Mbulu,
David Axelrod,
Sugar Minott,
Public Enemy,
Black Flag,
Tears for Fears,
Scion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Au Pairs,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Jandek,
Scientists,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cluster,
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Royal Trux,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Sixth Finger,
Black Pus,
Cal Tjader,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.