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 Israel and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Ultra Naté to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Fear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
L. Decosne,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hardrive,
Arab on Radar,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-101,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Zeros,
Alice Coltrane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fela Kuti,
New Order,
Scion,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Sheep,
Letta Mbulu,
Minny Pops,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Pretty Things,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
Terry Callier,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Von Mondo,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donald Byrd,
The Litter,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Byron Stingily,
Supertramp,
Gang Starr,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.