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 Burundi and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Agent Orange to the electroclash 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Nils Olav,
Maurizio,
Juan Atkins,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
The Beau Brummels,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Main Source,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deepchord,
ABBA,
Malaria!,
Max Romeo,
Niagra,
Rufus Thomas,
The Evens,
Kevin Saunderson,
Index,
Lightning Bolt,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
MDC,
Simply Red,
Cecil Taylor,
Q65,
Tom Boy,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hoover,
Mo-Dettes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
cv313,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Wally Richardson,
The Slits,
Ice-T,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marvin Gaye,
The Martian,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.