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 East Timor and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang of Four,
Joy Division,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brick,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Bang On A Can,
Anakelly,
The Wake,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
UT,
Sight & Sound,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
Pharoah Sanders,
cv313,
Little Man,
Excepter,
Fatback Band,
X-102,
The Last Poets,
Average White Band,
The Angels of Light,
Sugar Minott,
Qualms,
The American Breed,
Newcleus,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultravox,
Ohio Players,
The Seeds,
The Move,
Panda Bear,
Essential Logic,
The Real Kids,
the Germs,
D'Angelo,
Amon Düül,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magma,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Marmalade,
Ten City,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Wells,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.