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 the UAE and from Lille.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Shoche to the funk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brass Construction,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Crash Course in Science,
Judy Mowatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
the Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalann,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gun Club,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
Lou Reed,
Suicide,
Sun Ra,
Ronnie Foster,
Anthony Braxton,
Pole,
Sarah Menescal,
Arab on Radar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Fatback Band,
Minutemen,
Jacob Miller,
Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-Ray Spex,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Kayak,
Sex Pistols,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Fraelich,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Aswad,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.