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 Benin 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Donald Fagen 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 Rhythm & Sound to the crunk 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
E-Dancer,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Ice-T,
Pantaleimon,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ludus,
the Bar-Kays,
Maleditus Sound,
Prince Buster,
Jandek,
Essential Logic,
Faraquet,
Second Layer,
Buzzcocks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Rotary Connection,
Amon Düül II,
Black Pus,
Popol Vuh,
Fat Boys,
B.T. Express,
Gang Green,
Jawbox,
Hoover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
Minnie Riperton,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang On A Can,
Black Sheep,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.