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 Tuvalu and from London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
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 808 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mantronix,
Vladislav Delay,
Saccharine Trust,
John Holt,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fall,
Cluster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bad Manners,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skriet,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Monks,
Ossler,
The Names,
Underground Resistance,
Das Ding,
Neil Young,
Index,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
the Normal,
Rod Modell,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Depeche Mode,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
James White and The Blacks,
a-ha,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Sonic Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
The Leaves,
These Immortal Souls,
Masters at Work,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Modern Lovers,
Stereo Dub,
Flipper,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Infiniti,
Swans,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.