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 El Salvador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Litter,
LL Cool J,
Pierre Henry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
the Human League,
Q65,
Lyres,
Chris Corsano,
L. Decosne,
Bob Dylan,
Slick Rick,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Neu!,
Susan Cadogan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
Country Teasers,
Tubeway Army,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
Roxy Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sixth Finger,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Q and Not U,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moebius,
Neil Young,
Accadde A,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Aswad,
Wally Richardson,
Guru Guru,
A Certain Ratio,
MC5,
Outsiders,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
The Smiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zero Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Con Funk Shun,
Crooked Eye,
Echospace,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.