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 Kuwait and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Model 500,
Mantronix,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Second Layer,
The Velvet Underground,
The Buckinghams,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Modern Lovers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sixth Finger,
Kevin Saunderson,
10cc,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
Camouflage,
Smog,
Mark Hollis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Negative Approach,
Harry Pussy,
FM Einheit,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Average White Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül,
The Black Dice,
T.S.O.L.,
Japan,
Wings,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mandrill,
Minnie Riperton,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Music Machine,
JFA,
Cybotron,
Gang Starr,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mummies,
Organ,
Junior Murvin,
Quando Quango,
LL Cool J,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Charles Mingus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.