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 Samoa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Skarface to the techno 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Stetsasonic,
The Skatalites,
Sun City Girls,
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy Collins,
Carl Craig,
the Swans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ice-T,
The Kinks,
Camberwell Now,
Eric Copeland,
Dawn Penn,
The Mummies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
LL Cool J,
Rod Modell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Golliwogs,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
H. Thieme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
Blossom Toes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Niagra,
Arcadia,
Minnie Riperton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hashim,
This Heat,
Leonard Cohen,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Sneak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gun Club,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.