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 Sierra Leone and from New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swell Maps,
Skaos,
Flipper,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Womack,
Tom Boy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Trumans Water,
LL Cool J,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
The Searchers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Skarface,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
X-102,
Tommy Roe,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
T.S.O.L.,
Harmonia,
The Music Machine,
Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Moon,
Dead Boys,
ABBA,
Bizarre Inc.,
Neu!,
Spandau Ballet,
cv313,
Rod Modell,
Ultravox,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crispy Ambulance,
a-ha,
Al Stewart,
The Smiths,
The Pop Group,
John Coltrane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.