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 Venezuela and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang of Four to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Minny Pops,
Wolf Eyes,
U.S. Maple,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
Fear,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sarah Menescal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
Derrick May,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Finger,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
Gichy Dan,
Section 25,
Y Pants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Bronski Beat,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
The Count Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Bowie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Ossler,
Gang of Four,
Hardrive,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Maurizio,
Eli Mardock,
Black Sheep,
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
D'Angelo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Moby Grape,
Fluxion,
the Slits,
June Days,
Das Ding,
The Divine Comedy,
One Last Wish,
Yellowson,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.