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 Uruguay and from Stockholm.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Soul Sonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Fear,
T. Rex,
Fad Gadget,
Brick,
T.S.O.L.,
X-102,
Mad Mike,
Magma,
Patti Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Minutemen,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
Ultra Naté,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Yaz,
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
Neu!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Hill,
Minnie Riperton,
Audionom,
Sparks,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Evens,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide,
Negative Approach,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Panda Bear,
Ponytail,
Groovy Waters,
The Fugs,
Blancmange,
June of 44,
Roy Ayers,
Bush Tetras,
Stiv Bators,
The Gories,
Blossom Toes,
Moebius,
Lindisfarne,
New York Dolls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.