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 Syria and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Al Stewart to the disco 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid 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?
Delta 5,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Absolute Body Control,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Saccharine Trust,
Idris Muhammad,
The Selecter,
48th St. Collective,
The Happenings,
Michelle Simonal,
Motorama,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
Erasure,
Johnny Clarke,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Accadde A,
Danielle Patucci,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Vogues,
Black Flag,
Grauzone,
Young Marble Giants,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül II,
New Order,
Skaos,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
The Knickerbockers,
The Toasters,
Al Stewart,
The Mummies,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Albert Ayler,
Barrington Levy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Spandau Ballet,
The New Christs,
The Blues Magoos,
Barbara Tucker,
Rod Modell,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.