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 Luxembourg and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Junior Murvin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun City Girls,
The Barracudas,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rotary Connection,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deakin,
Hasil Adkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Sheep,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Au Pairs,
Cecil Taylor,
the Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vladislav Delay,
AZ,
Swell Maps,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Bananas,
Underground Resistance,
Peter & Gordon,
Carl Craig,
The Pretty Things,
Blossom Toes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rod Modell,
The Divine Comedy,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Second Layer,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy Collins,
Sam Rivers,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
June of 44,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.