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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Crime,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
K-Klass,
Gabor Szabo,
10cc,
Royal Trux,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
Dennis Brown,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sarah Menescal,
Maurizio,
Nils Olav,
Alison Limerick,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Stereo Dub,
Audionom,
David Axelrod,
The Monochrome Set,
Warren Ellis,
Arcadia,
Tom Boy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Intrusion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Graham Central Station,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Joe Finger,
Amon Düül II,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Victims,
Rakim,
the Human League,
Black Flag,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Green,
Easy Going,
AZ,
Guru Guru,
The Buckinghams,
Y Pants,
Reagan Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.