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 Romania and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 John Coltrane to the rock 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Buzzcocks,
Interpol,
Black Bananas,
Thee Headcoats,
The Angels of Light,
Slave,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
The Doors,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camberwell Now,
Ice-T,
Ossler,
Lakeside,
Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sound,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed,
The Happenings,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donny Hathaway,
Maleditus Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Terry,
The Skatalites,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
One Last Wish,
Laurel Aitken,
John Holt,
Mandrill,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T. Rex,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Move,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
Schoolly D,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.