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 Mauritania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Pussy Galore,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris & Cosey,
Blossom Toes,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Raincoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Sound Behaviour,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
Ronan,
Minnie Riperton,
Yaz,
Drexciya,
Can,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bad Manners,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
Supertramp,
The Remains,
Lakeside,
Kerrie Biddell,
H. Thieme,
a-ha,
OOIOO,
ABBA,
Zapp,
the Association,
Tears for Fears,
D'Angelo,
Crime,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Panda Bear,
The Happenings,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
The Names,
Peter & Gordon,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.