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 Uganda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the funk 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
Soft Machine,
Stetsasonic,
Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Bourne,
Drexciya,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Todd Terry,
The New Christs,
Malaria!,
Urselle,
Thompson Twins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Qualms,
Sugar Minott,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thee Headcoats,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
Wings,
DJ Style,
Peter and Kerry,
Prince Buster,
JFA,
Aaron Thompson,
The Residents,
Kenny Larkin,
Fad Gadget,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Liliput,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
AZ,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
Marmalade,
Crooked Eye,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.