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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sandy B to the funk 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
John Holt,
The Fall,
CMW,
Mantronix,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Juan Atkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
Bauhaus,
Chris Corsano,
Severed Heads,
Barrington Levy,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
DJ Style,
Lakeside,
New Age Steppers,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Hill,
Sex Pistols,
Interpol,
DNA,
The Blues Magoos,
Brand Nubian,
Darondo,
Dead Boys,
Television Personalities,
Tomorrow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Janne Schatter,
Tubeway Army,
The Associates,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rotary Connection,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wolf Eyes,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nas,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siglo XX,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Coltrane,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.