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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Saints,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aloha Tigers,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Motorama,
The Tremeloes,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Parrish,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Wells,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Doors,
The United States of America,
The Zeros,
Fluxion,
Leonard Cohen,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
Terry Callier,
Letta Mbulu,
Joey Negro,
Alison Limerick,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Pantaleimon,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
The Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
Rapeman,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Litter,
Pagans,
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
Toni Rubio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Young Marble Giants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.