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 Bahamas and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron 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?
Barbara Tucker,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nas,
Janne Schatter,
F. McDonald,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
Thompson Twins,
D'Angelo,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
DJ Style,
Matthew Bourne,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cecil Taylor,
New Age Steppers,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
The United States of America,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skaos,
Porter Ricks,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shuggie Otis,
David McCallum,
Negative Approach,
Sight & Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
Lee Hazlewood,
Freddie Wadling,
The Names,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warren Ellis,
The Stooges,
K-Klass,
Derrick Morgan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Das Ding,
The Residents,
Tears for Fears,
Isaac Hayes,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boredoms,
Maleditus Sound,
Sister Nancy,
The Cowsills,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.