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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Intrusion to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fugazi,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
Stiv Bators,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Kas Product,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magazine,
Altered Images,
Sonic Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Albert Ayler,
Grauzone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Isaac Hayes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swans,
Rod Modell,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
The United States of America,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chrome,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms,
Quadrant,
Eric Dolphy,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
The Velvet Underground,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
This Heat,
Thompson Twins,
Frankie Knuckles,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slits,
The Standells,
Jeff Mills,
The Human League,
Lyres,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.