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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Smog,
Basic Channel,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cameo,
Drexciya,
The Young Rascals,
Scion,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
June Days,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Lydon,
Anakelly,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Raincoats,
Suburban Knight,
The Monks,
Vladislav Delay,
The Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move,
The Dead C,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
Freddie Wadling,
the Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
Inner City,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Babytalk,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
Minny Pops,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick May,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.