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 Mauritania and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Curtis Mayfield to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
Aural Exciters,
Arab on Radar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Outsiders,
Marine Girls,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shoche,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fat Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
Organ,
The Dirtbombs,
The Leaves,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Zero Boys,
LL Cool J,
The Index,
The Young Rascals,
Rites of Spring,
Television Personalities,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare,
John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
The Motions,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Anakelly,
Unwound,
Soft Machine,
Delta 5,
Maurizio,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dark Day,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
AZ,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.