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 Azerbaijan and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 David Bowie 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the electroclash 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Christie,
Robert Wyatt,
D'Angelo,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
These Immortal Souls,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Saccharine Trust,
Flipper,
Alton Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Mad Mike,
Franke,
Make Up,
Ronnie Foster,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
Godley & Creme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wasted Youth,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Deakin,
The Smoke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Happenings,
Lalann,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Remains,
Mandrill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
a-ha,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
The Leaves,
Gang Starr,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Colin Newman,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.