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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Accadde A,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Y Pants,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fela Kuti,
Infiniti,
Moebius,
Kurtis Blow,
Fear,
Connie Case,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Slave,
Tim Buckley,
Sarah Menescal,
Wally Richardson,
Au Pairs,
Pylon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alphaville,
Rufus Thomas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Technova,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
The Motions,
Ultra Naté,
Oblivians,
the Association,
The Move,
Ken Boothe,
Siglo XX,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eurythmics,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick Morgan,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Invisible,
Bauhaus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Interpol,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.