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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Chris Corsano to the grunge 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
John Coltrane,
Roxette,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Wells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Swell Maps,
Yazoo,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
Byron Stingily,
Funkadelic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
Unwound,
Japan,
Jeff Mills,
Crime,
The Leaves,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
The Blackbyrds,
The Beau Brummels,
Television,
The Techniques,
Panda Bear,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Technova,
Mandrill,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Cecil Taylor,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.