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 Chad and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pulsallama to the funk 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Mission of Burma,
Brass Construction,
Pere Ubu,
Sound Behaviour,
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hoover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dead C,
The Vogues,
The Index,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra,
Cecil Taylor,
Harry Pussy,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Motions,
T. Rex,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Don Cherry,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rotary Connection,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cluster,
The Birthday Party,
Lebanon Hanover,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Average White Band,
Jeff Mills,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glenn Branca,
The Wake,
The Durutti Column,
Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Hasil Adkins,
ABBA,
Magma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
Organ,
the Germs,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.