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 Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Mo-Dettes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yellowson,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
The Misunderstood,
F. McDonald,
Unwound,
Michelle Simonal,
Suicide,
Black Bananas,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Crime,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
Los Fastidios,
Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Knickerbockers,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Human League,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sound,
Moebius,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Pagans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Axelrod,
Agent Orange,
The Index,
In Retrospect,
Reagan Youth,
Model 500,
DNA,
K-Klass,
Qualms,
The Busters,
X-101,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Mills,
Icehouse,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soulsonic Force,
Massinfluence,
Yusef Lateef,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Peter & Gordon,
Bootsy Collins,
Scan 7,
Ponytail,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.