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 Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the funk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Easy Going,
Scientists,
Peter & Gordon,
Intrusion,
Anakelly,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cramps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Toasters,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Doors,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Au Pairs,
K-Klass,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Soft Cell,
Ultravox,
Delta 5,
Lungfish,
Silicon Teens,
Gichy Dan,
Pere Ubu,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kevin Saunderson,
Aswad,
Scratch Acid,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Skaos,
Negative Approach,
Boredoms,
Minnie Riperton,
Zero Boys,
Qualms,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tom Boy,
Clear Light,
Josef K,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.