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 Poland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 the Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anakelly,
Public Enemy,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
The United States of America,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Unrelated Segments,
Tim Buckley,
The Selecter,
Alton Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nirvana,
Supertramp,
Franke,
Hashim,
Porter Ricks,
Quando Quango,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
Outsiders,
Khruangbin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
Tres Demented,
The Last Poets,
Hoover,
Ituana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mars,
The Real Kids,
Joey Negro,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
Juan Atkins,
Laurel Aitken,
Pierre Henry,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.