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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 The Leaves to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
The Skatalites,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Toni Rubio,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Order,
ABC,
Ohio Players,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultra Naté,
Joensuu 1685,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Divine Comedy,
Ituana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Prince Buster,
Carl Craig,
Isaac Hayes,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
Quando Quango,
Barry Ungar,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
Albert Ayler,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Style,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Panda Bear,
Adolescents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moss Icon,
Spandau Ballet,
Malaria!,
Excepter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.