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 Mauritania and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monochrome Set,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zero Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arcadia,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Pulsallama,
Infiniti,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masters at Work,
Subhumans,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Urselle,
Drive Like Jehu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
Echospace,
Dark Day,
The Red Krayola,
Qualms,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
Niagra,
World's Most,
Animal Collective,
Tears for Fears,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Marmalade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hardrive,
Pantytec,
Dennis Brown,
The J.B.'s,
H. Thieme,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.