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 Angola and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Anthony Braxton to the disco 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Human League,
Spandau Ballet,
T.S.O.L.,
Yaz,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Tres Demented,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Guru Guru,
Hoover,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bluetip,
The Cowsills,
Soft Cell,
Nico,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeff Lynne,
Outsiders,
Cybotron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gap Band,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Can,
Black Flag,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Neon Judgement,
The Residents,
The Angels of Light,
Eddi Front,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
Maleditus Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eve St. Jones,
Josef K,
Danielle Patucci,
Isaac Hayes,
Schoolly D,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.