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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Public Image Ltd. to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Association,
Marmalade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Kaleidoscope,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Happenings,
These Immortal Souls,
Main Source,
John Coltrane,
H. Thieme,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABC,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Dark Day,
David McCallum,
Connie Case,
Pantaleimon,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eve St. Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Enemy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gong,
Peter and Kerry,
The Invisible,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
Flipper,
Lyres,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.