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 Togo and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the grunge 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
FM Einheit,
R.M.O.,
Derrick May,
Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wolf Eyes,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Moon,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare,
Depeche Mode,
Excepter,
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
Moss Icon,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MC5,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
The Durutti Column,
Siglo XX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
Television,
Rotary Connection,
The Human League,
Flipper,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
ABC,
Kaleidoscope,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
The American Breed,
Fad Gadget,
Oblivians,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
Aloha Tigers,
Cecil Taylor,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
Ponytail,
Lee Hazlewood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.