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 Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Animal Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerri Chandler,
The Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Fugazi,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Spandau Ballet,
Zapp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flipper,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
Warsaw,
the Swans,
Roxette,
Colin Newman,
Mission of Burma,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
The Golliwogs,
Donny Hathaway,
Symarip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rakim,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Erykah Badu,
Q65,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dead Boys,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantytec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Victims,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
The Toasters,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.