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 Zambia and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the electroclash 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Christie,
The Real Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
Freddie Wadling,
Don Cherry,
Swell Maps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
DJ Style,
Mandrill,
Minny Pops,
Erykah Badu,
The Leaves,
Stiv Bators,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Isaac Hayes,
Cecil Taylor,
The Remains,
X-101,
Hasil Adkins,
Deadbeat,
Intrusion,
Drexciya,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Rekid,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Slick Rick,
D'Angelo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Walker Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Los Fastidios,
Scientists,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
Skriet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
CMW,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.