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 Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Deadbeat to the crunk 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
Sight & Sound,
Magma,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television,
David McCallum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lindisfarne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
Carl Craig,
Neu!,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Germs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
The Slits,
Hoover,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Altered Images,
Funkadelic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cheater Slicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wally Richardson,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
The Fortunes,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Kinks,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Motions,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
Shuggie Otis,
Das Ding,
X-102,
Dawn Penn,
Crime,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Sneak,
Brothers Johnson,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Names,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare,
Lalann,
Moby Grape,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.