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 Rwanda and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
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 synthesizer 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the funk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flash Fearless,
Lyres,
LL Cool J,
The Cowsills,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barbara Tucker,
Piero Umiliani,
The Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
Lalann,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Fatback Band,
Inner City,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Siglo XX,
The Index,
Aural Exciters,
The Black Dice,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Seeds,
The Fall,
Gichy Dan,
Nas,
ABC,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Infiniti,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bauhaus,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
Clear Light,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rakim,
Newcleus,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.