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 Moldova and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Saccharine Trust to the crunk 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
One Last Wish,
Funkadelic,
X-Ray Spex,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
Prince Buster,
John Lydon,
E-Dancer,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stetsasonic,
Grauzone,
Davy DMX,
New Order,
Model 500,
Technova,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Magazine,
Tears for Fears,
Camouflage,
Angry Samoans,
Zero Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
Blancmange,
Cybotron,
Motorama,
Minutemen,
DJ Style,
R.M.O.,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Cell,
Pylon,
The Gories,
The Move,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang Green,
Tubeway Army,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.