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 Grenada and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 John Holt to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
DJ Sneak,
the Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Barracudas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moody Blues,
New Age Steppers,
Neu!,
Can,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
Yaz,
the Normal,
Section 25,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kas Product,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Smoke,
Metal Thangz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fela Kuti,
Amazonics,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
The Neon Judgement,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sister Nancy,
the Bar-Kays,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Los Fastidios,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.