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 Burkina and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins,
Cecil Taylor,
Warsaw,
Thompson Twins,
Toni Rubio,
Chrome,
Shoche,
Sugar Minott,
Anthony Braxton,
Nils Olav,
The Neon Judgement,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
Bobby Womack,
The Associates,
Soulsonic Force,
The Misunderstood,
The Martian,
The Slits,
Pulsallama,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Busters,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Tom Boy,
Grey Daturas,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
ABBA,
Piero Umiliani,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Skatalites,
The Toasters,
The Red Krayola,
Ossler,
Leonard Cohen,
F. McDonald,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Kerri Chandler,
Kaleidoscope,
In Retrospect,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.