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 Laos and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Camouflage to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Heaven 17,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Mills,
Shuggie Otis,
Stiv Bators,
Mantronix,
Angry Samoans,
Model 500,
The Alarm Clocks,
F. McDonald,
Goldenarms,
Henry Cow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Country Teasers,
The Mummies,
Ronan,
Aloha Tigers,
Altered Images,
Joe Smooth,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
Scientists,
Von Mondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Don Cherry,
DJ Sneak,
Hashim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Dual Sessions,
Average White Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
Yazoo,
Erykah Badu,
Siglo XX,
The Offenders,
Unwound,
The Motions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sam Rivers,
Suicide,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.