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 Pakistan and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Nik Kershaw to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Freddie Wadling,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nas,
The Red Krayola,
Scan 7,
Amazonics,
Fugazi,
The Cowsills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oblivians,
The Skatalites,
The Star Department,
Absolute Body Control,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science,
Toni Rubio,
Scion,
Little Man,
Scientists,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
Nik Kershaw,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
Khruangbin,
Ten City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lyres,
The Fall,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crime,
Ultravox,
The Toasters,
Technova,
Tim Buckley,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Durutti Column,
Interpol,
Section 25,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maurizio,
The Fugs,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.