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 Chile and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Count Five to the disco 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Newcleus,
Wolf Eyes,
Blossom Toes,
The United States of America,
Ornette Coleman,
Accadde A,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
T.S.O.L.,
Eli Mardock,
Alice Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
Yellowson,
Scientists,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pagans,
Hot Snakes,
Chris Corsano,
Fad Gadget,
The Fugs,
Black Sheep,
The Index,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Con Funk Shun,
D'Angelo,
Deakin,
Cameo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cal Tjader,
The Stooges,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Motorama,
Popol Vuh,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra,
Monks,
cv313,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Clear Light,
Inner City,
Harry Pussy,
Rakim,
Quadrant,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Pulsallama,
Quando Quango,
Gerry Rafferty,
Iggy Pop,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.