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 South Sudan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin 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 Thee Headcoats to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Lynne,
the Soft Cell,
Chrome,
The Gap Band,
The Evens,
The Count Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Silicon Teens,
Josef K,
Pharoah Sanders,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Names,
Nation of Ulysses,
Graham Central Station,
Scientists,
The Divine Comedy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Hill,
Los Fastidios,
Faust,
Ultravox,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
E-Dancer,
Maleditus Sound,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slackers,
Alice Coltrane,
10cc,
Hoover,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Monolake,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
Charles Mingus,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-Ray Spex,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.