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 Sweden and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Slick Rick,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Nation of Ulysses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
X-102,
Soulsonic Force,
Al Stewart,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Severed Heads,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra,
Schoolly D,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
Hot Snakes,
X-101,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eddi Front,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Anthony Braxton,
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tears for Fears,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
Easy Going,
The Doors,
Gang Green,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Altered Images,
David McCallum,
Nick Fraelich,
Urselle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
Outsiders,
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Leonard Cohen,
Moss Icon,
Massinfluence,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.