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 Slovakia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 K-Klass to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Man Parrish,
The Move,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Wings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Germs,
Robert Wyatt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
JFA,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
David McCallum,
Barry Ungar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Easy Going,
DJ Style,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Bananas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Sherman,
The Invisible,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
MDC,
The Evens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Theoretical Girls,
John Foxx,
Das Ding,
Soft Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Wolf Eyes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Almond,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
Darondo,
Barrington Levy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Slackers,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.