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 Australia and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fatback Band,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Motorama,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
KRS-One,
Aural Exciters,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker,
UT,
Amon Düül,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
X-Ray Spex,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Jacques Brel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Joe Smooth,
Arcadia,
Alice Coltrane,
DJ Style,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alton Ellis,
Todd Terry,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
Goldenarms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
Mars,
Gang Green,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Au Pairs,
Freddie Wadling,
Blake Baxter,
The Move,
The Evens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Von Mondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Wings,
Hot Snakes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.