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 Hungary and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sex Pistols to the rock 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun City Girls,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
AZ,
Flamin' Groovies,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tears for Fears,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Amon Düül,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
Moebius,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Y Pants,
Nirvana,
The Neon Judgement,
The Pretty Things,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Man Parrish,
In Retrospect,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
The Music Machine,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
The Selecter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Outsiders,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Von Mondo,
David Bowie,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
Janne Schatter,
The Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Urselle,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantaleimon,
The Star Department,
Derrick May,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.