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 Burundi 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Max Romeo to the disco 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
The Birthday Party,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys,
Marc Almond,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joyce Sims,
Alphaville,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
Boz Scaggs,
The Vogues,
Graham Central Station,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiohead,
Fat Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
Ludus,
Davy DMX,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Audionom,
Warsaw,
Tim Buckley,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
Flipper,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ossler,
Bobby Womack,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cybotron,
Morten Harket,
Vladislav Delay,
The Victims,
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
Silicon Teens,
Qualms,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
Little Man,
Robert Hood,
the Association,
The Martian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Porter Ricks,
Ornette Coleman,
Joey Negro,
Q and Not U,
Ronan,
T.S.O.L.,
Barry Ungar,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.