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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fat Boys to the crunk 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Aswad,
The Star Department,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
New Age Steppers,
Sandy B,
The Slackers,
Clear Light,
The Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Human League,
Magazine,
The Martian,
Bizarre Inc.,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Massinfluence,
Section 25,
Little Man,
Goldenarms,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
KRS-One,
Sam Rivers,
The Durutti Column,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
Masters at Work,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dennis Brown,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Chris Corsano,
The Birthday Party,
Girls At Our Best!,
Negative Approach,
Jerry's Kids,
Mars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Yellowson,
L. Decosne,
AZ,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Trumans Water,
the Slits,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.