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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Fatback Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
The Selecter,
David Bowie,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Animal Collective,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young,
Donald Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
Ornette Coleman,
Little Man,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Black Dice,
Cybotron,
Pole,
Motorama,
Robert Wyatt,
Nas,
Roger Hodgson,
Darondo,
Nico,
Absolute Body Control,
The Knickerbockers,
The Five Americans,
Faust,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monolake,
Matthew Halsall,
Marine Girls,
The J.B.'s,
The Gun Club,
Popol Vuh,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radio Birdman,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pretty Things,
Tom Boy,
The Associates,
Cymande,
Harry Pussy,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
The Motions,
Derrick May,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.