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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron 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 Lower 48 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Dead Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Marvin Gaye,
Brothers Johnson,
Dennis Brown,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
Depeche Mode,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Ossler,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mummies,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scientists,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Minny Pops,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Sun City Girls,
Das Ding,
Max Romeo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q65,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Erykah Badu,
Mark Hollis,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Wasted Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Newcleus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Seeds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.