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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 This Heat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Bauhaus,
cv313,
Chrome,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
Neil Young,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
Audionom,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Average White Band,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
Jeff Mills,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Oblivians,
The Smiths,
Sam Rivers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Selecter,
Echospace,
Reagan Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dead C,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roxette,
The Stooges,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Lightning Bolt,
Kayak,
The Walker Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
Donny Hathaway,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Silicon Teens,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.