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 Albania and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Fatback Band to the techno 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
kango's stein massive,
Vladislav Delay,
Jandek,
Max Romeo,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Swans,
Whodini,
Brick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
AZ,
Sound Behaviour,
Sandy B,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Junior Murvin,
Tom Boy,
Angry Samoans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Howard Jones,
Pylon,
Graham Central Station,
Loose Ends,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Joe Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Patti Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gabor Szabo,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Trumans Water,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Susan Cadogan,
Japan,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
Marc Almond,
Robert Wyatt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Dolphy,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
Anakelly,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick Morgan,
New York Dolls,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.