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 Saudi Arabia 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Kas Product,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sparks,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Animal Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arthur Verocai,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
Vainqueur,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex,
E-Dancer,
Model 500,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bad Manners,
The Leaves,
The Gap Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
F. McDonald,
The Mojo Men,
FM Einheit,
Second Layer,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sex Pistols,
David McCallum,
The Last Poets,
Girls At Our Best!,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Terry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
JFA,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Ohio Players,
Bang On A Can,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Divine Comedy,
Metal Thangz,
Easy Going,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
The Seeds,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.