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 Saudi Arabia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 Erykah Badu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
The Selecter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABC,
Liliput,
The Remains,
Half Japanese,
Ken Boothe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
Chris Corsano,
Pagans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lower 48,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grey Daturas,
Terrestrial Tones,
ABBA,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Nico,
Ponytail,
Groovy Waters,
Porter Ricks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Q and Not U,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
This Heat,
Juan Atkins,
Essential Logic,
Stereo Dub,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
New York Dolls,
Man Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Velvet Underground,
Hashim,
Erykah Badu,
Lalann,
H. Thieme,
Television Personalities,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Max Romeo,
Visage,
Drexciya,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.