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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 John Coltrane to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monochrome Set,
Angry Samoans,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
Letta Mbulu,
Mandrill,
Cecil Taylor,
Sugar Minott,
Arcadia,
Oblivians,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gap Band,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Make Up,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Modern Lovers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
AZ,
Deadbeat,
The Moleskins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Dave Gahan,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Sneak,
James White and The Blacks,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
Los Fastidios,
The Move,
Eve St. Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Marine Girls,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Ultra Naté,
The Pretty Things,
Davy DMX,
Al Stewart,
Magazine,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.