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 Kiribati and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joe Finger to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Can,
Franke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Simply Red,
the Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Porter Ricks,
Loose Ends,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ludus,
Ten City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
The Sonics,
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nik Kershaw,
Scratch Acid,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
The Remains,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Suicide,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gichy Dan,
Bill Wells,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxy Music,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.