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 Serbia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Jeff Mills to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Dolphy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Barracudas,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Rod Modell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Inner City,
Deepchord,
The Buckinghams,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Normal,
Archie Shepp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
The United States of America,
Trumans Water,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
Banda Bassotti,
Aswad,
Wire,
Black Flag,
Ultra Naté,
Organ,
Nik Kershaw,
John Foxx,
Amazonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Sonics,
Scion,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ossler,
The Dead C,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
Swans,
DNA,
Donny Hathaway,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
The Victims,
The Standells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sight & Sound,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.