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 Monaco and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 T. Rex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Mad Mike,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
Lalo Schifrin,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Terry,
Godley & Creme,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
Lungfish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Association,
Moby Grape,
the Human League,
JFA,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
The Move,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
The Dead C,
Flash Fearless,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vainqueur,
The Zeros,
The Barracudas,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stockholm Monsters,
Gichy Dan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Animal Collective,
Accadde A,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
Kenny Larkin,
Pussy Galore,
Morten Harket,
Chrome,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Wyatt,
The Remains,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.