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 Sri Lanka and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mummies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxy Music,
Peter & Gordon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arab on Radar,
The Tremeloes,
The Moleskins,
Country Teasers,
The Young Rascals,
Accadde A,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Bourne,
John Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Joyce Sims,
Carl Craig,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang of Four,
The Invisible,
Maleditus Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
Stetsasonic,
Jacob Miller,
Pantytec,
Severed Heads,
Flipper,
Cameo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alphaville,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minnie Riperton,
Joe Smooth,
Dark Day,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ronan,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nico,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.