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 Peru and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siglo XX,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
Barrington Levy,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moss Icon,
Trumans Water,
The Gladiators,
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Terry Callier,
KRS-One,
The Doors,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
the Human League,
The Invisible,
R.M.O.,
Reuben Wilson,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Bourne,
Brass Construction,
Radiohead,
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Can,
Underground Resistance,
Deakin,
The Index,
Fear,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eli Mardock,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
Lou Reed,
Make Up,
Gang Green,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.