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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
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 theremin 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the techno 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
The Velvet Underground,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Scientists,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quadrant,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
The Seeds,
Absolute Body Control,
A Certain Ratio,
The Skatalites,
Niagra,
Television,
The Move,
The Motions,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams,
Eve St. Jones,
Slave,
Panda Bear,
Archie Shepp,
Inner City,
The Wake,
Wally Richardson,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
Stereo Dub,
Main Source,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Selecter,
Audionom,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Trumans Water,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
Essential Logic,
Flipper,
Fat Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ten City,
Alton Ellis,
Skarface,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Index,
Groovy Waters,
Little Man,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.