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 Madagascar and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Anthony Braxton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Urselle,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
Drexciya,
Groovy Waters,
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
Fat Boys,
The Selecter,
Laurel Aitken,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
Ronnie Foster,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
the Association,
The Mummies,
the Germs,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tom Boy,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Yusef Lateef,
Charles Mingus,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quantec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maurizio,
Joey Negro,
Hot Snakes,
Black Sheep,
Deepchord,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Anthony Braxton,
Pylon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
Altered Images,
Carl Craig,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.