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 South Sudan and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mr. Review to the dance 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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Real Kids,
Tim Buckley,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
Gang Green,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Standells,
Can,
Symarip,
The Golliwogs,
Mars,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
Fluxion,
Patti Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Motorama,
Leonard Cohen,
Arthur Verocai,
Lucky Dragons,
The Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
Funkadelic,
Kurtis Blow,
Kenny Larkin,
Joyce Sims,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ten City,
The Pretty Things,
Television Personalities,
David Axelrod,
Hashim,
Simply Red,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
The Beau Brummels,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Cybotron,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Pus,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.