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 Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Man Parrish to the rap 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
ABBA,
The American Breed,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Blossom Toes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Magazine,
China Crisis,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
Arab on Radar,
Morten Harket,
T. Rex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
E-Dancer,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Hoover,
Heaven 17,
UT,
Sarah Menescal,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Evens,
Letta Mbulu,
Aswad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
New Age Steppers,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
One Last Wish,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Order,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
The Divine Comedy,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
Gichy Dan,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerri Chandler,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.