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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Iggy Pop to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Sneak,
Tom Boy,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yellowson,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Cameo,
Hashim,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Roxy Music,
Jacques Brel,
Mantronix,
Maleditus Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arab on Radar,
The Gap Band,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Faust,
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlback,
Saccharine Trust,
ABBA,
Josef K,
John Foxx,
Public Enemy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gories,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Sheep,
Mars,
Pagans,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
MDC,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
The Toasters,
Warsaw,
The Detroit Cobras,
KRS-One,
Dark Day,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy,
The Dead C,
Soul II Soul,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.