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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb 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 Flesh Eaters to the punk 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Wally Richardson,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
Yellowson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
Subhumans,
Cameo,
Suburban Knight,
The Doors,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar,
Lucky Dragons,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thee Headcoats,
Q and Not U,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marc Almond,
The Modern Lovers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
UT,
Fatback Band,
Maurizio,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Delta 5,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grey Daturas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Eurythmics,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Clarke,
Warren Ellis,
The New Christs,
Harmonia,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Style,
The Golliwogs,
Severed Heads,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
The Red Krayola,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Order,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.