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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blossom Toes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Junior Murvin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Accadde A,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül,
Simply Red,
Index,
The Trojans,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Main Source,
Gang Green,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marmalade,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Wells,
Quando Quango,
Dark Day,
Lou Christie,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mr. Review,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Audionom,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Angels of Light,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Lower 48,
Steve Hackett,
Iggy Pop,
New Age Steppers,
Infiniti,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hashim,
Pantytec,
Vainqueur,
Basic Channel,
Skaos,
The Raincoats,
Radio Birdman,
Zapp,
The Grass Roots,
Blake Baxter,
Television,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.