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 South Sudan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Yazoo to the rap 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Remains,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
Tom Boy,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Nas,
Lungfish,
New Age Steppers,
The Beau Brummels,
Audionom,
Aural Exciters,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Hill,
Rapeman,
Derrick May,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
Mission of Burma,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pere Ubu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Teasers,
Skaos,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
Godley & Creme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Royal Trux,
Stiv Bators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
Oblivians,
Motorama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
cv313,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ten City,
Radiohead,
Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.