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 Dominican Republic and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Carl Craig 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
MC5,
Johnny Clarke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
D'Angelo,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Y Pants,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Zapp,
Tres Demented,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fluxion,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Youth Brigade,
China Crisis,
Michelle Simonal,
The Barracudas,
X-Ray Spex,
Sandy B,
The Gladiators,
Dave Gahan,
Connie Case,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Terry Callier,
Essential Logic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiopuhelimet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amazonics,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fad Gadget,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.