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 Vietnam and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Inner City to the punk 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Outsiders,
Dawn Penn,
Ludus,
The Blues Magoos,
Erykah Badu,
Roxy Music,
CMW,
Piero Umiliani,
Aaron Thompson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Five Americans,
Bob Dylan,
Ossler,
The Selecter,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dirtbombs,
June Days,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fall,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Seeds,
These Immortal Souls,
Visage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Fat Boys,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
MDC,
Moss Icon,
Todd Rundgren,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
Sister Nancy,
Ronnie Foster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Icehouse,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pylon,
Colin Newman,
Royal Trux,
Idris Muhammad,
Harry Pussy,
Sonic Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.