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 Norway and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
The Selecter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lalann,
Gang Starr,
Motorama,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Theoretical Girls,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cowsills,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cure,
Sound Behaviour,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Image Ltd.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Soul II Soul,
Quantec,
EPMD,
Laurel Aitken,
Janne Schatter,
Mantronix,
The Shadows of Knight,
Animal Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Scott Walker,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ituana,
The Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
Hashim,
FM Einheit,
Max Romeo,
Bad Manners,
The Barracudas,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
the Bar-Kays,
The Leaves,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rapeman,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pierre Henry,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.