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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tears for Fears to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Dawn Penn,
Inner City,
Niagra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Suburban Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed,
Eric Dolphy,
The Skatalites,
Pere Ubu,
Absolute Body Control,
X-Ray Spex,
KRS-One,
Fat Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dual Sessions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Copeland,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Flipper,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Near,
E-Dancer,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bronski Beat,
Warsaw,
UT,
Adolescents,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Faust,
Agent Orange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Sherman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Machine,
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Sugar Minott,
Saccharine Trust,
Grauzone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Evens,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.