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 Sierra Leone and from Bremen.
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 Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 June Days to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Wire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
Quando Quango,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
Toni Rubio,
The Five Americans,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
These Immortal Souls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Walker Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gories,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
Bush Tetras,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Japan,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sound,
The Real Kids,
Icehouse,
Barbara Tucker,
Franke,
Neu!,
Tim Buckley,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Hashim,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Bobby Sherman,
Mantronix,
The Fall,
Subhumans,
Joyce Sims,
Todd Terry,
Simply Red,
Dawn Penn,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.