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 San Marino and from New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Kinks,
The Slackers,
Sixth Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Order,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Delta 5,
Morten Harket,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Prince Buster,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James White and The Blacks,
X-Ray Spex,
Dawn Penn,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
The Buckinghams,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alison Limerick,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry's Kids,
Yaz,
The Barracudas,
Youth Brigade,
The Angels of Light,
Deepchord,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Skaos,
Average White Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Guru Guru,
The Pretty Things,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hashim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mad Mike,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.