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 Vietnam and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Cowsills to the crunk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Shoche,
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
Masters at Work,
Los Fastidios,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
Terry Callier,
Chrome,
Eli Mardock,
Section 25,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Minnie Riperton,
Television,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-102,
Arab on Radar,
The Monochrome Set,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DNA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cheater Slicks,
Funkadelic,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Roxette,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Rapeman,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun City Girls,
Wire,
Quantec,
Livin' Joy,
Black Sheep,
Ultimate Spinach,
Organ,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Copeland,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.