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 Turkey and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Todd Terry to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Motorama,
Quadrant,
Aaron Thompson,
The J.B.'s,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Zero Boys,
Parry Music,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Saints,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans,
Drexciya,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Alarm Clocks,
KRS-One,
Masters at Work,
The Smiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Dead C,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sugar Minott,
Wasted Youth,
Flash Fearless,
The Names,
Radiohead,
Urselle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
The Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
ABC,
Stetsasonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Zeros,
Byron Stingily,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scion,
Letta Mbulu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Near,
Warsaw,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pussy Galore,
Marine Girls,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blues Magoos,
Mark Hollis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rosa Yemen,
Oneida,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.