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 Hungary and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Pet Shop Boys,
Unwound,
Marmalade,
Rufus Thomas,
Joe Finger,
Drexciya,
Eric Dolphy,
Charles Mingus,
The Buckinghams,
La Düsseldorf,
Eddi Front,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Sheep,
a-ha,
Leonard Cohen,
Pussy Galore,
Essential Logic,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dorothy Ashby,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Girls At Our Best!,
B.T. Express,
The Smiths,
Alice Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
Pere Ubu,
The Move,
Mark Hollis,
Goldenarms,
The Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric Copeland,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Robert Görl,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scion,
Harmonia,
Can,
Reagan Youth,
Ponytail,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Groovy Waters,
the Bar-Kays,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.