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 Colombia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 Oblivians to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Los Fastidios,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Whodini,
Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pagans,
Aaron Thompson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brick,
Index,
Alison Limerick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Radio Birdman,
Danielle Patucci,
Crooked Eye,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
Mark Hollis,
a-ha,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tommy Roe,
ABBA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
This Heat,
Main Source,
Stiv Bators,
Magma,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Sherman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
Wire,
Yazoo,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
The Trojans,
Motorama,
X-Ray Spex,
Cluster,
Fluxion,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo,
The Fall,
Sarah Menescal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.