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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drive Like Jehu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
The Mojo Men,
Al Stewart,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sixth Finger,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zero Boys,
Brick,
Dave Gahan,
Sound Behaviour,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The United States of America,
Flipper,
The Black Dice,
The Martian,
Trumans Water,
Sparks,
Wings,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
Idris Muhammad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ossler,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Davy DMX,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Todd Rundgren,
The Associates,
Lyres,
World's Most,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lucky Dragons,
Country Teasers,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
The Young Rascals,
the Soft Cell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hasil Adkins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Funkadelic,
The Durutti Column,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.