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 Venezuela and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
Hashim,
Todd Terry,
Lungfish,
Gabor Szabo,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Motorama,
Sonny Sharrock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Index,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The American Breed,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rapeman,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Victims,
The Pretty Things,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ice-T,
Skriet,
The Music Machine,
Wally Richardson,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Almond,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish,
Eurythmics,
Metal Thangz,
Dave Gahan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.