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 Dominica and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Gichy Dan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Symarip,
The Young Rascals,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Spandau Ballet,
Altered Images,
The Walker Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Scan 7,
Outsiders,
Alton Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Eden Ahbez,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Livin' Joy,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
the Bar-Kays,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Quando Quango,
Kurtis Blow,
Junior Murvin,
Basic Channel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kevin Saunderson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun City Girls,
X-101,
The Cramps,
Nico,
Flipper,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
The Sonics,
Gang Green,
MC5,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Davy DMX,
Aswad,
The Neon Judgement,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.