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 Korea South and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fatback Band to the grunge 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Leaves,
Darondo,
The Smiths,
Godley & Creme,
Charles Mingus,
Connie Case,
Urselle,
Anakelly,
Aural Exciters,
The Sonics,
OOIOO,
H. Thieme,
The Names,
Nils Olav,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Bluetip,
Make Up,
Subhumans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radio Birdman,
Pantaleimon,
Silicon Teens,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
Technova,
John Cale,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
Talk Talk,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cure,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Guru Guru,
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
The Blues Magoos,
Yusef Lateef,
The Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
Deadbeat,
Mo-Dettes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fugs,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Smooth,
Masters at Work,
Jacques Brel,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.