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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Offenders to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Soft Cell,
This Heat,
Cybotron,
Half Japanese,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minutemen,
The New Christs,
Young Marble Giants,
Prince Buster,
Agitation Free,
K-Klass,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tim Buckley,
Aswad,
Scrapy,
Barbara Tucker,
Porter Ricks,
Janne Schatter,
Fad Gadget,
The Busters,
Wings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
The Knickerbockers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
The J.B.'s,
Judy Mowatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Flipper,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Selecter,
The Durutti Column,
Althea and Donna,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harmonia,
Scratch Acid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fluxion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Sonics,
Donald Byrd,
Joy Division,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Monks,
Brand Nubian,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.