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 Uzbekistan and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 John Holt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Gladiators,
Chrome,
Monolake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Laurel Aitken,
Silicon Teens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
ABC,
Japan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Davy DMX,
Hardrive,
Minnie Riperton,
Eve St. Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
cv313,
Maleditus Sound,
Blancmange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erykah Badu,
Patti Smith,
The Real Kids,
Moebius,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mojo Men,
Magma,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
Rites of Spring,
The Fuzztones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The American Breed,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Beau Brummels,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pole,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Warsaw,
Todd Rundgren,
X-102,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crash Course in Science,
Morten Harket,
The Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
June of 44,
The Index,
LL Cool J,
FM Einheit,
Zero Boys,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.