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 Equatorial Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Wally Richardson to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Visage,
Popol Vuh,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tommy Roe,
Flash Fearless,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Saints,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
Das Ding,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hot Snakes,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Moby Grape,
Qualms,
Jandek,
Funky Four + One,
Swans,
Pulsallama,
Section 25,
Joey Negro,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Byrd,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Erasure,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gabor Szabo,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Vladislav Delay,
Agent Orange,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.