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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boredoms 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
Loose Ends,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Todd Terry,
The Techniques,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Outsiders,
Henry Cow,
The Red Krayola,
Minny Pops,
Man Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Japan,
Byron Stingily,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mummies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cecil Taylor,
Angry Samoans,
Desert Stars,
Silicon Teens,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Lightning Bolt,
Neu!,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Stereo Dub,
The Divine Comedy,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Lakeside,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front,
Aswad,
Roxy Music,
K-Klass,
Soul Sonic Force,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.