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 Greece and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 Traffic Nightmare to the jazz 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
kango's stein massive,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sister Nancy,
Hardrive,
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
Harmonia,
Lyres,
Hasil Adkins,
a-ha,
Skriet,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Pharoah Sanders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Flash Fearless,
Alton Ellis,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ralphi Rosario,
Loose Ends,
Sexual Harrassment,
AZ,
Symarip,
The Evens,
Gang of Four,
Crime,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
The Electric Prunes,
Porter Ricks,
The Birthday Party,
Lalann,
Grauzone,
Jandek,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Parry Music,
Hashim,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.