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 Kyrgyzstan and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Black Moon,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Quantec,
Sun City Girls,
Hardrive,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Happenings,
David Axelrod,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Faust,
La Düsseldorf,
the Fania All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
kango's stein massive,
Franke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Smog,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rotary Connection,
The Fall,
X-Ray Spex,
10cc,
The Last Poets,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liliput,
Motorama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
The Selecter,
Pole,
The Invisible,
Pulsallama,
Von Mondo,
Black Flag,
Shuggie Otis,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.