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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Lungfish 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Warren Ellis,
MC5,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Count Five,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
Malaria!,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Intrusion,
R.M.O.,
Country Teasers,
Arcadia,
Clear Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Sneak,
Pylon,
Deepchord,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rites of Spring,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Moon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alison Limerick,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Motorama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DJ Style,
Magma,
Blake Baxter,
Basic Channel,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Faraquet,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
Black Bananas,
Davy DMX,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
Prince Buster,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Zeros,
Fad Gadget,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Red Krayola,
Zero Boys,
Subhumans,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.