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 Macedonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lindisfarne 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fuzztones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dead C,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
Magma,
Malaria!,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Pantaleimon,
Laurel Aitken,
Royal Trux,
The Human League,
Pylon,
X-102,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Al Stewart,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Easy Going,
The Saints,
Section 25,
Essential Logic,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
Little Man,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Vogues,
Pantytec,
Quadrant,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
The Stooges,
Cal Tjader,
Inner City,
Half Japanese,
Cymande,
Tres Demented,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Foxx,
Junior Murvin,
Tim Buckley,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Steve Hackett,
Roxy Music,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.