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 Singapore and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Negative Approach to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
Panda Bear,
48th St. Collective,
Motorama,
Lalann,
The Zeros,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül II,
June of 44,
Aswad,
Fat Boys,
Funkadelic,
Mandrill,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chrome,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
LL Cool J,
Animal Collective,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mojo Men,
Skarface,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Curtis Mayfield,
Make Up,
Althea and Donna,
The Motions,
In Retrospect,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harmonia,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Technova,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.