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 China and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Divine Comedy to the grunge 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sandy B,
Motorama,
Clear Light,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Josef K,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
KRS-One,
the Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Funkadelic,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Five Americans,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
Crooked Eye,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delta 5,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alison Limerick,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Blancmange,
Essential Logic,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Anthony Braxton,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Blues Magoos,
Harpers Bizarre,
E-Dancer,
The J.B.'s,
The Gap Band,
Monks,
Das Ding,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.