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 Nauru and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Roy Ayers to the funk 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
The Tremeloes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Groovy Waters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
Ornette Coleman,
D'Angelo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
T.S.O.L.,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fela Kuti,
X-101,
Easy Going,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eurythmics,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Sun Ra,
Rapeman,
Swans,
The Misunderstood,
The Doors,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Country Teasers,
MDC,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Symarip,
Sex Pistols,
The Fuzztones,
Donny Hathaway,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.