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 Eritrea 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sex Pistols to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slick Rick,
New Order,
Marmalade,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Litter,
The Monks,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Underground Resistance,
Second Layer,
Bronski Beat,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Negative Approach,
Pantaleimon,
Hashim,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Cybotron,
The Neon Judgement,
Model 500,
Charles Mingus,
The Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Wake,
Toni Rubio,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Glenn Branca,
Aswad,
Radio Birdman,
Eli Mardock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angry Samoans,
X-101,
Avey Tare,
Sound Behaviour,
Eden Ahbez,
Outsiders,
Kas Product,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Blues Magoos,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.