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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
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 harpsichord 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Patti Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jeff Mills,
James White and The Blacks,
Animal Collective,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joy Division,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
The Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anakelly,
Sixth Finger,
Warsaw,
Tim Buckley,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ituana,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
The Moody Blues,
Oneida,
Khruangbin,
Bang On A Can,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lindisfarne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Q and Not U,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quantec,
Tears for Fears,
Television,
The Fugs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rapeman,
FM Einheit,
Average White Band,
Crime,
Joe Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dead C,
Albert Ayler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
Michelle Simonal,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.