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 Suriname and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 The Dead C 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Blake Baxter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
Slick Rick,
Joey Negro,
Young Marble Giants,
The Evens,
Mo-Dettes,
Nick Fraelich,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
Scan 7,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
The Skatalites,
Cluster,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
Urselle,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Sheep,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nirvana,
Graham Central Station,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Gang of Four,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
Hoover,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pop Group,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
The Vogues,
Shoche,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
MDC,
Glenn Branca,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Style,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sister Nancy,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.