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 Egypt and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Eddi Front to the disco 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Flipper,
The Beau Brummels,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Warsaw,
Danielle Patucci,
MC5,
The Five Americans,
Rakim,
Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers,
Goldenarms,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
Popol Vuh,
The Pop Group,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
Slave,
Neil Young,
Harmonia,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Deakin,
8 Eyed Spy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Joe Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Inner City,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boredoms,
Babytalk,
Brand Nubian,
Quantec,
Tres Demented,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks,
Faust,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
Lebanon Hanover,
David McCallum,
Glambeats Corp.,
Con Funk Shun,
Theoretical Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Sugar Minott,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.