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 Solomon Islands and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Erasure to the grime 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
the Germs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
OOIOO,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
Judy Mowatt,
Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Toasters,
Theoretical Girls,
Hoover,
Reagan Youth,
Magazine,
Alice Coltrane,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
Deadbeat,
Barrington Levy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smoke,
The Last Poets,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Basic Channel,
Circle Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Niagra,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Kayak,
Wolf Eyes,
This Heat,
Chris & Cosey,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Agitation Free,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonic Youth,
The Vogues,
The Star Department,
Visage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alton Ellis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.