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 Dominican Republic and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the disco 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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Rosa Yemen,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Qualms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going,
Brand Nubian,
The Stooges,
Little Man,
Section 25,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Cluster,
The United States of America,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
Dennis Brown,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
David McCallum,
Fat Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Black Moon,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker,
Blake Baxter,
the Normal,
Ice-T,
Gichy Dan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Porter Ricks,
Stetsasonic,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick May,
The Offenders,
Glenn Branca,
The Zeros,
Gabor Szabo,
Bronski Beat,
Eli Mardock,
The Wake,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.