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 Israel and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Normal to the jazz 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sex Pistols,
The Dead C,
Barry Ungar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Country Teasers,
The Golliwogs,
U.S. Maple,
Blossom Toes,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Associates,
The Saints,
The Doors,
Faust,
Quantec,
The Moody Blues,
The J.B.'s,
Infiniti,
Los Fastidios,
Symarip,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
Gang of Four,
Quadrant,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Janne Schatter,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amon Düül,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Juan Atkins,
Al Stewart,
Henry Cow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June of 44,
Marine Girls,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Icehouse,
Laurel Aitken,
Guru Guru,
Thee Headcoats,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.