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 Korea North and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Michael McDonald 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 Wings to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Wings,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
Nas,
Ludus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
Pulsallama,
Gang of Four,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Steve Hackett,
The Gun Club,
The Moody Blues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Basic Channel,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeru the Damaja,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Television Personalities,
Skarface,
Gang Starr,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Halsall,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun City Girls,
The Saints,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
The Cramps,
David Bowie,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Urselle,
Barrington Levy,
Franke,
Popol Vuh,
The Beau Brummels,
Erasure,
The Pop Group,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
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.