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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Black Moon to the funk 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Model 500,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kerri Chandler,
Skaos,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul II Soul,
Oblivians,
Kerrie Biddell,
MC5,
Interpol,
Nick Fraelich,
The Barracudas,
The Wake,
Barry Ungar,
UT,
Aural Exciters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Supertramp,
the Slits,
Yaz,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
Arcadia,
Mantronix,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
Porter Ricks,
Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Khruangbin,
Bill Near,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up,
Smog,
Sam Rivers,
The Residents,
Chris & Cosey,
Barbara Tucker,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New Order,
Au Pairs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monolake,
ABBA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crash Course in Science,
Wings,
Sugar Minott,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echospace,
Stetsasonic,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.