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 Fiji and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Babytalk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Vainqueur,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
the Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Clarke,
Kayak,
The American Breed,
Heaven 17,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Y Pants,
Sixth Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Walker Brothers,
Oneida,
Sällskapet,
The Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Certain Ratio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare,
Gerry Rafferty,
kango's stein massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
PIL,
Derrick Morgan,
Wire,
Moby Grape,
Bronski Beat,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alton Ellis,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Colin Newman,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
Saccharine Trust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blake Baxter,
The Divine Comedy,
Mo-Dettes,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.