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 Macedonia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Michael McDonald 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 The Standells to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Livin' Joy,
Joey Negro,
Magma,
Albert Ayler,
La Düsseldorf,
Joy Division,
Deepchord,
Godley & Creme,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Womack,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reagan Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeff Mills,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gabor Szabo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spandau Ballet,
Crooked Eye,
Stiv Bators,
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Derrick May,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Halsall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
Unwound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
JFA,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.