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 Togo and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Metal Thangz,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Fraelich,
The Slackers,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Massinfluence,
Terrestrial Tones,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Josef K,
MDC,
The Dead C,
Skaos,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
The Angels of Light,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Duran Duran,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warsaw,
Blake Baxter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kayak,
Boredoms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
48th St. Collective,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick May,
Unrelated Segments,
The Velvet Underground,
Danielle Patucci,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
The Gladiators,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ossler,
Kenny Larkin,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Mark Hollis,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
Alison Limerick,
Fear,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.