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 Armenia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Basic Channel to the techno 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Detroit Cobras,
PIL,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
Arcadia,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
ABBA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T.S.O.L.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alison Limerick,
kango's stein massive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Near,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Loose Ends,
Ronnie Foster,
Bronski Beat,
Anthony Braxton,
Magazine,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Amazonics,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Rundgren,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rosa Yemen,
Lucky Dragons,
E-Dancer,
Dave Gahan,
Excepter,
Grey Daturas,
Sam Rivers,
Yellowson,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Q and Not U,
Animal Collective,
Carl Craig,
In Retrospect,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liliput,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.