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 Suriname and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Techniques to the dance 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Soft Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Moon,
U.S. Maple,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Carl Craig,
Public Enemy,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anthony Braxton,
The Selecter,
the Bar-Kays,
These Immortal Souls,
The Saints,
The Cure,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Victims,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Divine Comedy,
Television Personalities,
Brand Nubian,
Lindisfarne,
PIL,
Warsaw,
Skriet,
Marmalade,
Sam Rivers,
The Music Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Newcleus,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
The Zeros,
Chrome,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Severed Heads,
Monolake,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eve St. Jones,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
Michelle Simonal,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jacob Miller,
Country Teasers,
Oblivians,
Johnny Clarke,
Idris Muhammad,
Kas Product,
X-102,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Sherman,
Warren Ellis,
Japan,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.