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 Malaysia and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Arab on Radar to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roy Ayers,
Joy Division,
The Saints,
John Holt,
Ultravox,
Q65,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Ohio Players,
Monolake,
the Swans,
Mo-Dettes,
Lower 48,
the Bar-Kays,
Slick Rick,
John Foxx,
Model 500,
Thompson Twins,
Oblivians,
Curtis Mayfield,
cv313,
Young Marble Giants,
Nils Olav,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television Personalities,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shuggie Otis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Skarface,
Gil Scott Heron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Livin' Joy,
Laurel Aitken,
Supertramp,
The Remains,
Robert Hood,
Soulsonic Force,
Vainqueur,
Yaz,
Unrelated Segments,
The Move,
The Victims,
The Searchers,
Sugar Minott,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
Grey Daturas,
Deadbeat,
Junior Murvin,
Procol Harum,
David Axelrod,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Echospace,
Fatback Band,
The Selecter,
Scion,
Altered Images,
Franke,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.