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 South Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 T. Rex to the techno 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Fela Kuti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mo-Dettes,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Five Americans,
48th St. Collective,
Mantronix,
the Association,
Brothers Johnson,
Q65,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Lynne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Reed,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
Yusef Lateef,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
David McCallum,
Ossler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wally Richardson,
Ronnie Foster,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Eden Ahbez,
The Red Krayola,
Toni Rubio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Faust,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonic Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
Scott Walker,
Michelle Simonal,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
Rekid,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Khruangbin,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Banda Bassotti,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.