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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Michelle Simonal to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
World's Most,
Junior Murvin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wings,
Monolake,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tres Demented,
Magma,
Mr. Review,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fatback Band,
Make Up,
Anthony Braxton,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
Glenn Branca,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
Darondo,
LL Cool J,
Josef K,
Ultravox,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Janne Schatter,
Wasted Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
Bluetip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nas,
EPMD,
Bad Manners,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.