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 Maldives and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Pole,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gong,
Arcadia,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Sun City Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thompson Twins,
The Martian,
Brick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
David McCallum,
Arab on Radar,
FM Einheit,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Livin' Joy,
Ituana,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
T.S.O.L.,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Piero Umiliani,
Shuggie Otis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Deakin,
Lindisfarne,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
Monks,
Pylon,
Bill Near,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Agitation Free,
Scott Walker,
Dorothy Ashby,
Electric Prunes,
Goldenarms,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faust,
CMW,
Slick Rick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kurtis Blow,
Visage,
The Fall,
Babytalk,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.