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 Botswana and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Parry Music to the rap 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Darondo,
This Heat,
Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hot Snakes,
Liliput,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Max Romeo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tim Buckley,
Fat Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Shoche,
Henry Cow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
B.T. Express,
Marvin Gaye,
Yellowson,
The Knickerbockers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
Nik Kershaw,
Flipper,
Rakim,
Outsiders,
Barry Ungar,
Oblivians,
Duran Duran,
The Skatalites,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Stetsasonic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Black Sheep,
Spandau Ballet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young,
Iggy Pop,
The Velvet Underground,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Carl Craig,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.