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 Estonia and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sound Behaviour to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Laurel Aitken,
John Cale,
Crime,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Walker Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Funkadelic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
David Axelrod,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Faraquet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Organ,
MDC,
Kerri Chandler,
Los Fastidios,
Interpol,
The Sonics,
Intrusion,
Janne Schatter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rosa Yemen,
Sugar Minott,
Pole,
Gang of Four,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
Albert Ayler,
Von Mondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Darondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Can,
Avey Tare,
Minutemen,
The Gun Club,
Underground Resistance,
AZ,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.