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 Cameroon and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crash Course in Science to the dance 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Trumans Water,
Suicide,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blake Baxter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
R.M.O.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Simply Red,
The Kinks,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade,
Anakelly,
Amon Düül,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kenny Larkin,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
Urselle,
Supertramp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Associates,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moody Blues,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Dolphy,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
Alphaville,
Public Enemy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Evens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
E-Dancer,
Main Source,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nirvana,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.