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 Slovakia and from London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Moebius to the rap 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Knickerbockers,
The Five Americans,
Brothers Johnson,
Bauhaus,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Doobie Brothers,
World's Most,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang On A Can,
The Associates,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The J.B.'s,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Angry Samoans,
Whodini,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
F. McDonald,
CMW,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yusef Lateef,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Saccharine Trust,
The Raincoats,
June of 44,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker,
Buzzcocks,
The Index,
Index,
Pole,
U.S. Maple,
Lalann,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Mantronix,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.