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 Angola and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 OOIOO to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Barry Ungar,
Cal Tjader,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angry Samoans,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Invisible,
Dual Sessions,
Bad Manners,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris Corsano,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sugar Minott,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Funky Four + One,
Swans,
Q and Not U,
Yaz,
Connie Case,
Technova,
Make Up,
Parry Music,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Foxx,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Slackers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wally Richardson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Smog,
UT,
Nirvana,
Pet Shop Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
The Mummies,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
Pylon,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Near,
Adolescents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rotary Connection,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Bronski Beat,
Bauhaus,
Cymande,
Crispy Ambulance,
KRS-One,
Aswad,
Pantytec,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.