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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slick Rick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flash Fearless,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rufus Thomas,
Kaleidoscope,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Hood,
Cecil Taylor,
Arab on Radar,
Nirvana,
New Order,
Sight & Sound,
The American Breed,
Von Mondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
Scion,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Newcleus,
Scan 7,
Second Layer,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül II,
Index,
Cluster,
Kayak,
The Offenders,
Yusef Lateef,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Hasil Adkins,
Visage,
Bobby Byrd,
Supertramp,
Barrington Levy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Max Romeo,
Marmalade,
Sound Behaviour,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
Scientists,
Q65,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Brick,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.