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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 F. McDonald 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Bobby Sherman,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
X-101,
Joensuu 1685,
Nico,
Sound Behaviour,
Ornette Coleman,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Reed,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lakeside,
Faraquet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Symarip,
Masters at Work,
The Beau Brummels,
The Happenings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Teasers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jawbox,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
DJ Sneak,
Donny Hathaway,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
John Holt,
Eurythmics,
JFA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shuggie Otis,
John Coltrane,
Technova,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Television,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
Soul II Soul,
The Fugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yusef Lateef,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Nas,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.