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 Luxembourg and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
La Düsseldorf,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
Easy Going,
Harry Pussy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Godley & Creme,
The Motions,
Faust,
The Zeros,
Brothers Johnson,
the Association,
Sixth Finger,
Inner City,
Suicide,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rotary Connection,
The Angels of Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fela Kuti,
Yaz,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Johnny Clarke,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Raincoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echospace,
Cameo,
The Modern Lovers,
Motorama,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Standells,
The Wake,
Nas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Audionom,
Niagra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barry Ungar,
DJ Style,
Main Source,
Infiniti,
The Techniques,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.