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 Libya and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Misunderstood to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Bronski Beat,
Drexciya,
Rufus Thomas,
Little Man,
Ice-T,
John Foxx,
Sixth Finger,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Negative Approach,
Crash Course in Science,
Vainqueur,
The Gladiators,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
Don Cherry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pagans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Delta 5,
The Mummies,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Nas,
Roxette,
Anakelly,
Arthur Verocai,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Shuggie Otis,
The Stooges,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
Sight & Sound,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kevin Saunderson,
June of 44,
Cymande,
Magazine,
The Dirtbombs,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.