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 Equatorial Guinea and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Marc Almond to the grime 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
Dual Sessions,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Tomorrow,
Liliput,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
Minnie Riperton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shoche,
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Franke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
Henry Cow,
Stetsasonic,
Wire,
ABC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alton Ellis,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
The Gap Band,
Radio Birdman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Blues Magoos,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Negative Approach,
The Mummies,
Freddie Wadling,
Neil Young,
Deadbeat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Desert Stars,
Section 25,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
Loose Ends,
The Black Dice,
The Count Five,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.