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 Madagascar and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
Sight & Sound,
DJ Style,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultravox,
Adolescents,
Theoretical Girls,
Fatback Band,
The Young Rascals,
The Misunderstood,
Tom Boy,
Average White Band,
Bill Wells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
Motorama,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Don Cherry,
Brothers Johnson,
The Motions,
Glenn Branca,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Lungfish,
Chrome,
The Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Andrew Hill,
Ponytail,
10cc,
Joey Negro,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
EPMD,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronan,
Nico,
Rosa Yemen,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Al Stewart,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lebanon Hanover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blancmange,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.