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 Rwanda and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scion to the techno 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aaron Thompson,
Nils Olav,
KRS-One,
The Raincoats,
The Mojo Men,
Crash Course in Science,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Bill Near,
a-ha,
David McCallum,
48th St. Collective,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
Pere Ubu,
Danielle Patucci,
Frankie Knuckles,
The United States of America,
Popol Vuh,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
The Pop Group,
The Durutti Column,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
Shoche,
The Barracudas,
Ten City,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
LL Cool J,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Au Pairs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
cv313,
Rosa Yemen,
Das Ding,
Peter & Gordon,
Liliput,
Roxette,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
Youth Brigade,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.