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 Guatemala and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum 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 D'Angelo to the rap 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
Danielle Patucci,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke,
Morten Harket,
CMW,
Negative Approach,
The Associates,
Thompson Twins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kenny Larkin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fela Kuti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Neil Young,
Make Up,
Lyres,
DJ Style,
The Wake,
Letta Mbulu,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Joy Division,
Junior Murvin,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Supertramp,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Bowie,
Dark Day,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suicide,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
Scrapy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Sam Rivers,
Faust,
Gichy Dan,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.