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 Gambia and from New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Black Moon to the rap 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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
Moebius,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Hood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
Grey Daturas,
Derrick May,
The Red Krayola,
Scrapy,
Sonic Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Mission of Burma,
the Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
The Names,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter and Kerry,
Bronski Beat,
Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pere Ubu,
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Crash Course in Science,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amazonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Mantronix,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
Animal Collective,
Section 25,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eli Mardock,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
a-ha,
ABBA,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
K-Klass,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.