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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
Soft Cell,
Section 25,
PIL,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faust,
Supertramp,
The Young Rascals,
Alton Ellis,
Colin Newman,
Fluxion,
The Litter,
Godley & Creme,
Khruangbin,
Black Flag,
Fear,
Echospace,
China Crisis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
Lou Christie,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Basic Channel,
MC5,
FM Einheit,
Cecil Taylor,
Intrusion,
Fat Boys,
Peter & Gordon,
Qualms,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Lakeside,
Flash Fearless,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
AZ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül II,
Derrick Morgan,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronnie Foster,
Barrington Levy,
Ten City,
The Cowsills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Subhumans,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.