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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Faust to the rap 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
the Human League,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
Patti Smith,
LL Cool J,
In Retrospect,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Trojans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
The Golliwogs,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiohead,
Malaria!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dave Gahan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ossler,
The Dead C,
Motorama,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
Can,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
The Knickerbockers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tropical Tobacco,
Letta Mbulu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Isaac Hayes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New Order,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Ponytail,
Japan,
Sonic Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Sexual Harrassment,
H. Thieme,
Ituana,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Das Ding,
Nik Kershaw,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
Fela Kuti,
Lyres,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.