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 Honduras and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Lungfish,
Kaleidoscope,
Wire,
Black Flag,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalann,
The Fugs,
Agent Orange,
Kayak,
Magma,
Malaria!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Bourne,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Victims,
Nas,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
Hashim,
Jeff Mills,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stiv Bators,
The Fall,
Yusef Lateef,
Urselle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The New Christs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camouflage,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Dolphy,
Davy DMX,
The Wake,
Bronski Beat,
Patti Smith,
Ultravox,
Excepter,
Intrusion,
Circle Jerks,
Slick Rick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Real Kids,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
Joe Finger,
New Age Steppers,
Porter Ricks,
T. Rex,
The Zeros,
Darondo,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.