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 Poland and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bronski Beat to the rap 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lower 48,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Clarke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Drexciya,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Mandrill,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Beau Brummels,
The Smoke,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
UT,
T. Rex,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
Monolake,
Qualms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Young Marble Giants,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
Surgeon,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
The Associates,
Ponytail,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alison Limerick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Panda Bear,
MC5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.