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 Spain and from Lagos.
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 Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Red Krayola 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Joey Negro,
Aloha Tigers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
Pantytec,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sonny Sharrock,
Visage,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Dawn Penn,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
U.S. Maple,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Byrd,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marine Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yazoo,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
Scion,
The Mojo Men,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cure,
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
Ludus,
Ten City,
Boogie Down Productions,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blackbyrds,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
Marvin Gaye,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Association,
Rites of Spring,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.