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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Saccharine Trust,
Tropical Tobacco,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
The Leaves,
Monolake,
The Young Rascals,
Drexciya,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gong,
The Doors,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
L. Decosne,
Jandek,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lee Hazlewood,
James White and The Blacks,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül II,
Lalann,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
10cc,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Copeland,
The Associates,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra,
David McCallum,
Rhythm & Sound,
Y Pants,
Pylon,
Sight & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Porter Ricks,
Radiohead,
Shoche,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mantronix,
Maleditus Sound,
the Human League,
U.S. Maple,
New Order,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.