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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Cale 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
cv313,
Howard Jones,
Nas,
Susan Cadogan,
Popol Vuh,
Magazine,
The J.B.'s,
David McCallum,
The Busters,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young,
The Index,
Slave,
Maurizio,
Tim Buckley,
Goldenarms,
Tres Demented,
Be Bop Deluxe,
R.M.O.,
The Cure,
Excepter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Infiniti,
Zapp,
Tomorrow,
Ituana,
The Cowsills,
DJ Style,
Jacques Brel,
Radiohead,
Saccharine Trust,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hot Snakes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Archie Shepp,
The Invisible,
the Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The Martian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marshall Jefferson,
Guru Guru,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.