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 Grenada and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mark Hollis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Susan Cadogan,
The Tremeloes,
L. Decosne,
Jandek,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Lyres,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
The Grass Roots,
Dorothy Ashby,
Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
the Bar-Kays,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yellowson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dave Gahan,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Rakim,
DJ Style,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joey Negro,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pantytec,
Silicon Teens,
One Last Wish,
The Monks,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
Hoover,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dual Sessions,
Mo-Dettes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Suicide,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Trojans,
The Leaves,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Kurtis Blow,
The Busters,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.