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 New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 The Martian to the crunk 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Patti Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sex Pistols,
Dennis Brown,
Maurizio,
Amazonics,
Sandy B,
Kenny Larkin,
Q65,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kas Product,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fortunes,
Bad Manners,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Leaves,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Symarip,
The Evens,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Prince Buster,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Can,
Surgeon,
Siglo XX,
Cheater Slicks,
Oblivians,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
Jeru the Damaja,
Japan,
Heaven 17,
Barry Ungar,
The Trojans,
Anakelly,
Fad Gadget,
Sun City Girls,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.