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 Honduras and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Cymande to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Agent Orange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
The Toasters,
Lou Christie,
X-101,
Niagra,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sugar Minott,
the Association,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Infiniti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
Buzzcocks,
Quando Quango,
Heaven 17,
Piero Umiliani,
Hoover,
Motorama,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
John Foxx,
Magma,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Scrapy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Janne Schatter,
The Invisible,
Quantec,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
Masters at Work,
Intrusion,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.