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 Burundi and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Ice-T,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Malaria!,
Drive Like Jehu,
LL Cool J,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
The Birthday Party,
Audionom,
The Dirtbombs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oblivians,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magazine,
Main Source,
The Blackbyrds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
The Motions,
In Retrospect,
The Evens,
Fat Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roy Ayers,
The Sound,
Supertramp,
Khruangbin,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Toni Rubio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Clear Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Clarke,
Trumans Water,
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
The Searchers,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.