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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Eurythmics to the rock 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Malaria!,
This Heat,
The Saints,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Von Mondo,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Carl Craig,
AZ,
Juan Atkins,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
The Residents,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
Nas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Human League,
Rekid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Basic Channel,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
Mark Hollis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
Radio Birdman,
Lakeside,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Skatalites,
Second Layer,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nico,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ponytail,
Laurel Aitken,
Fatback Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Teasers,
Inner City,
Altered Images,
OOIOO,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.