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 Czech Republic and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Pop Group to the punk 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter 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?
Connie Case,
Bluetip,
John Lydon,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Archie Shepp,
Maurizio,
Quantec,
The Barracudas,
The Remains,
Parry Music,
Dark Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Black Dice,
Funky Four + One,
Ultravox,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Q and Not U,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
The Slackers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shuggie Otis,
Lakeside,
Howard Jones,
Unwound,
The Golliwogs,
Yaz,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Can,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
Inner City,
Motorama,
David Axelrod,
Japan,
Pole,
Ten City,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
U.S. Maple,
The Motions,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.