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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Derrick May to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Associates,
Rufus Thomas,
The Happenings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brick,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Wells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
Surgeon,
Trumans Water,
James White and The Blacks,
Idris Muhammad,
Dual Sessions,
Marvin Gaye,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Arcadia,
Black Flag,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barbara Tucker,
Fad Gadget,
Minutemen,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sonics,
Nas,
Rosa Yemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drexciya,
Shoche,
Man Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Magma,
Black Sheep,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Terry,
The Zeros,
Sparks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harpers Bizarre,
Interpol,
Rites of Spring,
Barry Ungar,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Neu!,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cecil Taylor,
The Knickerbockers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.