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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Eurythmics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
Public Enemy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Buckinghams,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Ten City,
Jandek,
Ludus,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doors,
Cluster,
U.S. Maple,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
June Days,
Cheater Slicks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gap Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Charles Mingus,
Livin' Joy,
Nick Fraelich,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bill Near,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
John Lydon,
Jerry's Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Arthur Verocai,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
The Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Sparks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
Dual Sessions,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.