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 Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Funky Four + One to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Connie Case,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Sällskapet,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
The Wake,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Stooges,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Age Steppers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dead C,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Godley & Creme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vainqueur,
The Names,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quadrant,
Robert Wyatt,
Reagan Youth,
Brass Construction,
Radiohead,
Pierre Henry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
Patti Smith,
Can,
Donny Hathaway,
World's Most,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Black Pus,
Stereo Dub,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.