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 Suriname and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 10cc to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Parrish,
Surgeon,
The Golliwogs,
Underground Resistance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-101,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Offenders,
Spandau Ballet,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Vogues,
Shoche,
Quadrant,
Massinfluence,
Dead Boys,
Ronan,
Basic Channel,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Accadde A,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Fraelich,
Aswad,
FM Einheit,
H. Thieme,
Japan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.