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 Congo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Gang of Four to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Rites of Spring,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Can,
The Saints,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Barrington Levy,
The Busters,
Interpol,
The Alarm Clocks,
Albert Ayler,
Kurtis Blow,
Moby Grape,
Hot Snakes,
Skarface,
Model 500,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aural Exciters,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alison Limerick,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Green,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
Godley & Creme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jandek,
The Fall,
Accadde A,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
Idris Muhammad,
The American Breed,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Panda Bear,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
Ohio Players,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.