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 Germany and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Pere Ubu to the jazz 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Black Moon,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Henry Cow,
Michelle Simonal,
Moss Icon,
Yellowson,
Hasil Adkins,
Anthony Braxton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Sheep,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxy Music,
Sällskapet,
Dual Sessions,
Skarface,
Don Cherry,
Barry Ungar,
Severed Heads,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Symarip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rites of Spring,
8 Eyed Spy,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Arthur Verocai,
the Germs,
Quantec,
Mantronix,
Byron Stingily,
Lakeside,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yusef Lateef,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The New Christs,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Neu!,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Saints,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.