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 Mauritania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Shuggie Otis to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Standells,
Graham Central Station,
The Dead C,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Sam Rivers,
Danielle Patucci,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Urselle,
Shuggie Otis,
48th St. Collective,
Pet Shop Boys,
Symarip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sandy B,
Radio Birdman,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gap Band,
Smog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pagans,
X-101,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
Siglo XX,
Jacques Brel,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arab on Radar,
The Motions,
Soul II Soul,
Fad Gadget,
Negative Approach,
The J.B.'s,
A Certain Ratio,
Colin Newman,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Angry Samoans,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.