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 Sri Lanka and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Joy Division,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Parry Music,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Aural Exciters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Susan Cadogan,
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
Altered Images,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Aswad,
Heaven 17,
Donald Byrd,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick May,
Procol Harum,
The Smoke,
The Tremeloes,
X-Ray Spex,
Lightning Bolt,
Mark Hollis,
Bronski Beat,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
Crooked Eye,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Evens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Glenn Branca,
Niagra,
the Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Royal Trux,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
The Move,
The Pop Group,
Skaos,
Davy DMX,
Scrapy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Golliwogs,
Piero Umiliani,
Technova,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Order,
The Gories,
Pantytec,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.